<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Matter of Moments by ElizaG1</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618724">A Matter of Moments</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaG1/pseuds/ElizaG1'>ElizaG1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pride and Prejudice &amp; Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Memory Loss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:13:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>50,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaG1/pseuds/ElizaG1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the failed proposal in Kent, a heartbroken Mr. Darcy is determined to forget Elizabeth entirely. Will this strange drink truly erase all his memories of Elizabeth? Is he making the right decision? How will their story get back on course? Inspired  by scenes from the 2005 movie and the 2004 film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (you don't need to have seen it!). A little less fantastical after the first 9 chapters. HEA.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elizabeth Bennet &amp; Fitzwillliam Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Title:</strong> A Matter of Moments</p><p><strong>Rating: </strong>K+</p><p><strong>Disclaimer</strong>: Inspired by the works of Jane Austen, the 2005 film <em>Pride &amp; Prejudice</em> directed by Joe Wright, and the 2004 film <em>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</em> written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Michel Gondry.</p><p><strong>Setting:</strong> 2005 movieverse</p><p><strong>Summary</strong>: After the failed proposal in Kent, a heartbroken Mr. Darcy is determined to forget Elizabeth entirely. Will this strange concoction truly erase all his memories of Elizabeth? And is he making the right decision? Inspired by scenes from the 2005 movie and the 2004 film <em>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</em>.</p><p><strong>Author’s Note: </strong>Shelter-at-home has reignited my love for <em>Pride and Prejudice</em>, and I’ve been spending some of my time indoors watching the movie again, rereading the book, and reading fanfics. This idea came to my head a few weeks ago, and I think it won’t leave me alone until it’s written out. I’m anticipating 5-7 chapters. I have about half of it written, so I’m hoping to update every two weeks. This first update includes the first two chapters to give you a sense of how the story will develop. I consider this a mashup of the<em> Pride &amp; Prejudice</em> and <em>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</em> universes. After these first two chapters, I’ll post one chapter at a time. I hope you and your loved ones are in good health. I’m looking forward to your reviews and thank you for reading!</p><hr/><p>Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,<br/>Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,<br/>Raze out the written troubles of the brain<br/>And with some sweet oblivious antidote<br/>Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff<br/>Which weighs upon the heart?</p><p><em>Macbeth</em> (5.2.50—55)</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mr. Darcy, operating as of late on very little sleep, rode out as far as his property line in northern Derbyshire, relishing in the solitude of an early morning ride well before dawn. Here, at least, he could escape the pitying looks of Mrs. Reynolds and the servants. Despite their professional demeanor and respect for Mr. Darcy, they could not hide a certain amount of pity in their eyes when they looked at him.</p><p>Yes, the great Master of Pemberley was pitied even by the lowliest of servants. While Darcy had never spoken a word of it aloud to anyone, general opinion amongst the staff settled on it being a matter of a woman. Mrs. Reynolds highly discouraged speculation and gossip amongst the household staff, so she would never contribute her own agreement and suspicion that something terrible must have happened during Mr. Darcy annual visit to Kent.  Mrs. Reynolds was certain Mr. Darcy was suffering from a broken heart. She had never seen such a lovesick man. She treated him with the usual reverence and with a touch of extra tenderness as often as she could, for his disposition could be described as nothing but distraught since his return.</p><p>Darcy sighed heavily, feeling slightly guilty at the pain he was causing the loyal Mrs. Reynolds, and even more so for the pain he was inflicting on Georgiana as well. He patted his horse as he watched dawn breaking over the rolling hill and forests of Derbyshire. Even this magnificent sight did little for him now. He turned to ride slowly back to Pemberley. After his time in Kent, he had returned an angry and broken man. He shunned all society in London, refusing to take callers and spending his evenings and many of his days locked in the library, partaking in a little too much brandy to dull his senses. He had hoped a return to Pemberley and the company of Georgiana would lighten his mood, but it had the opposite impact he had anticipated.</p><p>There was not a day when he did not think about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He saw her bewitching eyes every time he closed his own. He could not enjoy a walk on the wild grounds of his estate without hearing her laughter in the sound of the leaves rusting in the wind. Her figure haunted the halls of Pemberley without having ever stepped foot on its grounds. He had envisioned returning to his estate with his wife on his arm. He mourned the loss of this future he so longed for, the future with Miss Elizabeth at his side, filling Pemberley’s quiet with her vivacity. No, the past fortnight at his estate had not provided any more solace to him than his house in London. Georgiana’s company barely lightened his somber expressions.  He no longer wanted to subject poor Georgiana to his dour mood. He would return to London. At least there, away from Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds, a façade of normalcy was not required, and he was free to wallow in self-pity without interruption. Yes, he could order Georgiana a new pianoforte to make up for being such bad company during his stay and as an apology for his sudden departure. The pianoforte would at least bring her joy he could not in his present state. He would suffer alone.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Only a week after beginning his successful banishment to his London house, Darcy finally decided he was surely going mad. He found himself pacing the length of the Darcy House library with a glass of brandy in one hand late in a hot summer evening.</p><p><em>How could Miss Elizabeth Bennet reject me? </em>Me<em>? </em>he mused as he finally settled down into his favorite leather wingback chair. Darcy smiled bitterly at his own thought. The irony was not lost on him, for had she not rejected him for the very pride he displayed now in being angered at her rejection?</p><p>His pride was wounded, yes, and this certainly fueled his anger. Yet, he knew that the next day his anger would be replaced, and he would sink into the depths of his own despair of having lost such a woman as Miss Elizabeth. He was familiar with the back and forth of his emotions because it was in these moods he spent the last three months since his failed proposal, waffling between anger, despair, heartbreak, and shame. Darcy drank the last of the brandy in his cup and reached for the decanter near him to refill his drink.</p><p>He stared into the relative darkness of the library, now lit only by moonlight as his candles had extinguished early in his long evening. He cared little, as being left with his thoughts in the darkness perfectly suited his melancholy mood.</p><p>Darcy regularly tortured himself by replaying their interactions in his mind, and this evening was no different. Tonight, his memories were clouded by her anger on that cursed day in Kent. He found it difficult to remember much else when he was in a particularly sour mood. He had behaved poorly that day, he would concede that he had been less than eloquent, yet she had shown him so little civility as to make him feel foolish for having lost himself so completely to her.  He had been foolish enough to not only assume his proposal would be accepted, but that she would rejoice and profess her own ardent feelings in return. He had misjudged her regard almost as much as she surely misjudged his character.</p><p>Every day he hoped he would feel like his old self again, that he could return to the passive, responsible, and great Mr. Darcy everyone knew him to be.  And every day, when he woke in the morning, he felt the rush of loss as hard as he felt it that day in Kent. Elizabeth Bennet haunted his dreams, and he feared, no, knew that he would never be free of her or the heartache she caused.</p><p>~~~</p><p>It was well after midnight when he decided to retire from the library to his chambers.  He had no idea why he lingered so long in the library evening after evening, anyway. Perhaps he did it on purpose to torture himself further. He often pictured her during her stay at Netherfield tending to Miss Bennet. How she would have enjoyed sitting beside the fireplace in Darcy House.</p><p><em>If she was not so disgusted by the very thought of being near me</em>, Darcy thought to himself. He hated that every pleasant thought of her would result in pain, whether of his own twisted interpretation or not. He berated himself like this constantly.</p><p>She had been right, he knew, at least in part. His manners could be improved amongst mixed company, but she understood little of the weight of responsibility on him or how uncomfortable he was in the presence of strangers. It was not his fault she had misjudged him. <em>She</em> had let herself be poisoned by Wickham’s lies. Darcy’s countenance darkened further. He had written her a letter offering explanation, yet that had done nothing to better her opinion of him.</p><p><em>As far as you know</em>, the hopeful voice inside his head said. Darcy shook it away. If the letter had made a difference, had altered her opinion of him at all, she would have made it known. A letter, or a word, to Rosings. But she had not crossed the expanse between the parsonage and Rosings to make any kinds of amends. No. The letter had made no difference.</p><p>With that, Darcy stood, opened the door to the library and made his way quietly down the hall. He had almost reached the staircase, the halls still lit with stray candles in the anticipation of his late nights, when he heard voices by the front door clearly in the middle of a conversation. </p><p>“---crossed in love. You know, if he does not forget about her soon, he’s going to go mad,” the evening maid said.</p><p>“Aye,” came a quiet reply from a voice he recognized as the evening footman, “but it is not so easy to forget the likes of a woman good enough to have caught Mr. Darcy’s fancy.”</p><p>Darcy was unaccustomed to hearing the servants talk so candidly within earshot of him. They must not have heard him leave the library.  It piqued his curiosity to see where this conversation went, so he paused in the hall, hidden from their view.</p><p>“You know, I had a cousin who was in a similar state as our Mr. Darcy. Nearly drank himself to death, he did, until he heard about a remedy,” the girl continued.</p><p>“A remedy? What, another woman?” the footman replied. Darcy could hear the footman’s smirk even though he could not see his face.</p><p>“No,” the girl said with a scoff. “He took a mixture of some kind. Went to the apothecary and got some kind of anti-love potion.” It was the footman’s turn to scoff. “No such thing,” he replied simply.</p><p>“Why, yes there is!” the girl cried indignantly in a loud whisper, “He took it, and he forgot all about her. Took it right before bed, and one day to the next, she was out of his mind, like that,” the girl snapped.</p><p>The footman snorted, clearly unconvinced by the girl’s tale. “Alright, alright. I best be on my way.” The quiet between the pair unsettled Darcy for a minute, and a few moments passed before he heard both of them part ways. He put out of his mind the impropriety their silence implied. Luckily, they both left through the servant’s corridor, perhaps to their respective posts in case the master of the house had the sudden desire to call for tea or want to leave the house at such an ungodly hour. He had been moody and irrational enough for the servants to do their best to be available any minute he may require them for fear of adding to his discontent.</p><p>Darcy stood there in contemplation after they had left. As if suddenly remembering that he was standing in the middle of his hallway in the middle of the night, he shook his own head and made his way to his chambers. He dressed much too casually on his late nights in Darcy House, so undressing for bed without a valet was a simple task. He had grown much accustomed to it and preferred the solitude of it as of late.</p><p><em>Could it be true?</em> He wondered to himself as he lay down in an empty bed. As he closed his eyes, he knew Elizabeth Bennet would come to him in his dreams. A reason he dreaded sleep, for his loss was felt all the more when he would wake without her. His final thoughts before his restless sleep were that, if it could possibly be true that something in this world existed that would erase her from his heart and memory forever, he must pursue it.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The next morning, Mr. Darcy woke with a sense of purpose he had not felt since the day he had proposed to Miss Elizabeth in Kent. He rang for his valet, as he was determined to set out for the day. Sooner than he anticipated, he was ready to make his way downstairs and break his fast with the minimal amount of food required not to provoke too great of worry for his health amongst the servants.</p><p>Darcy planned to ride to the apothecary on the outskirts of town. While he knew it was risky to run this particular errand on his own, he counted on his ability to buy any silence required of the apothecary, and if need be, any of the patrons in the store. He could not ask even his most trusted and loyal servants to run this errand on his behalf. No, there was far too much at stake.</p><p>Luckily, he did not encounter anyone he knew. He smiled grimly, thinking perhaps this was fortune’s way of shining on him, as he entered an empty apothecary’s shop. He went straight to the man himself. The apothecary started a little at the sight of him. </p><p>“Sir,” the apothecary said with a bow. Darcy bowed stoically, hoping that not being addressed by name meant that the man did not recognize him. “How may I assist you?” the apothecary asked.</p><p>“I have a dear friend in need of some assistance,” Mr. Darcy began. The apothecary raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Clearly, he had helped many a patron’s <em>friends</em> before. Darcy took his silence as an invitation to continue. “My…friend…heard there may be something to assist him with forgetting a certain amorous attachment,” Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, innocently, he hoped.</p><p>The apothecary smiled sadly at Mr. Darcy. Darcy did not appreciate the scrutiny, uncomfortable with the look he was receiving, but he remained firm in his resolve and his countenance did not waiver.</p><p>“So your <em>friend</em> is looking to forget the object of their affection?” the apothecary asked. Mr. Darcy nodded. “And what good could that do?” the apothecary asked, raising a brow. Darcy did not expect a line of questioning, and largely ignored it.</p><p>“Then something like that does exist?” Darcy replied rather excitedly, “Is it truly possible?” he asked.</p><p>The apothecary sighed. Many desperate men and women of all ages had come through his shop seeking such a remedy. Most were crossed in love, but on occasion, those grieving a lost parent or child would wander into the store on the whim of a rumor that their broken hearts could be mended. There was one particularly boisterous woman who came in every few months trying to rid the same man from her memory. It seemed to work every time, yet somehow, they would find their way to each other again, only for one or another of them to commit the same folly that would cause her to wind up at the shop once more. The apothecary shook his head slightly thinking about it. He took great pride in his medicinal work and the comfort and health he brought many people, yet peddling concoctions that were of questionable medicinal use was not his preferred way of spending his time.</p><p>“Yes. I am in possession of a mixture that is said to make the drinker forget the object of his strong emotions. I have seen many recover from heartache with its assistance, but it does come at a great price,” the apothecary said.</p><p>“Price is of no concern,” Mr. Darcy said rather too quickly, “for my friend, that is.”</p><p>“You misunderstand me, sir,” the apothecary replied. “It is not a monetary price to which I refer. You, rather, your friend, may want to reconsider the true cost of forgetting a love so great. Time is the surest way to mend a broken heart, or perhaps he can still win the object of his affection. It is a rather rash course of action to entirely rid yourself of…”</p><p>“Sir, I understand your warning, but I’m sure my friend has weighed his options thoroughly,” Darcy interrupted. “He will go mad if he does not erase his woman from his mind. He has been but a shadow of his former self for months already. It is not a normal sort of heartache. It is far worse than anything I have ever seen,” Darcy’s stoic composure broke briefly. He hoped the apothecary would interpret it as concern for his <em>friend</em> rather than a side effect of his sudden display of vulnerability.</p><p>“Very well,” the apothecary said, turning to go into the back of his shop. He returned with a small vial. “Does your friend share regular society with the woman in question?”</p><p>Mr. Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed. “No. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“Good. It makes things less complicated. As you can imagine, forgetting someone entirely may create some uncomfortable social situations. Taking the whole contents of this vial will do just that. Before drinking it, your friend should instruct those he is closest with to never mention the woman again, as it may cause him some confusion. However, if the woman is someone he remains in close society with, he should only take half. This will enable him to remember enough of her to be able to hold a polite conversation, but all strong emotional attachment will be gone.”</p><p>“They would meet, then, as indifferent acquaintances?” Mr. Darcy asked, stunned by the possibility.</p><p>“Precisely,” the apothecary responded. “He will take either all or half before he retires for the night. While I cannot give you an exact account of what happens since I have not taken it myself…” Here the apothecary paused, “To my knowledge, anyway,” he said, seemingly a little unsettled. He persevered, “But it is my understanding that the mixture will go straight to your friend’s head, targeting any memories related to the object of affection. He will essentially relive the pain, happiness, love and heartbreak, all of it all over again, in order to rid himself of it and by morning, the mixture will have completed its task.”</p><p>“Are there any physical risks associated with this?” Mr. Darcy asked, suddenly very concerned about the potency of the mixture before him.</p><p>“Other than permanently altering the mind?” the apothecary asked, with slight amusement, “No. He will simply wake up the next morning feeling as if he had indulged heavily in drink the night before.”</p><p>This satisfied Mr. Darcy, so they settled on the price, and Mr. Darcy bowed his thanks again as he walked out. The apothecary sighed heavily as Mr. Darcy left the store.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Later that evening, Darcy was in his chambers at an earlier hour than usual and had just dismissed his valet. He paced his room and stared at the small vial sitting innocently on the dresser. He stopped, his arms outstretched and hands resting on the dresser as he leaned over, bowing his head.</p><p>Mr. Darcy regarded himself a man of excellent judgment. He was considered and thought out his decisions before he made them. Since his father’s death, Darcy had moved cautiously yet deliberately in all matters personal and business. Even his proposal to Miss Elizabeth had come after months of considered study of the risks and rewards of such a match. Ultimately, his heart had won out. He had meant to convey his thought process to her, but that had obviously backfired. Altogether, Darcy was not one for rash decisions.</p><p>“Until now,” he said aloud to himself. Darcy would not stand for it anymore. He was ready to take fate into his own hands.</p><p>Darcy moved purposefully to the small writing desk in the sitting area. He pulled out sheets of paper with the Darcy family crest on it and readied his pen. His closest friends and family would need to refrain from ever mentioning Elizabeth Bennet to him again. He thoughtfully reflected on exactly what he wanted to say to the recipients that would be firm enough to ensure their acquiescence with no additional questioning. Even if this plan did not work, at the very least he would be spared having to talk about Elizabeth.</p><p>As a slow writer, it took him some time to get through his letters, even though he kept them all brief to half a page. It was quite unlike him, but he hoped the severe tone and brevity would sound final. He needed to wait for the ink to dry. Impatiently, he paced his room. When he decided the ink was dry enough, he sealed each letter and left them on his desk to send tomorrow.</p><p>With a final sigh, he made his way back to his dresser. The small vial taunted him.</p><p>"It would have been better if I had never met her," With that, he roughly uncorked the vial. He lifted it to his nose. It smelt surprisingly palatable of orange and something else he could not identify.</p><p><em>Half to remain indifferent acquaintances. All of it to forget her entirely</em>, he reminded himself.</p><p>“To your health and happiness, Miss Elizabeth,” he said sadly, savoring the sound of her name on his lips for, he hoped, the last time. He raised the vial and drank his intended amount. He set the vial back down on his dresser. Darcy then climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over himself, determined to fall asleep and be done with all of this by morning. There was nothing worse than living without Elizabeth Bennet in his life, and soon, he would be free of her. Darcy was hopeful that by morning he would feel like his old self again. His eyes began to droop rather quickly. Yes, this was exactly the right course of action, he reassured himself as he sank into a deep slumber.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Elizabeth Bennet stood silently looking at a mirror, seemingly contemplating something beyond it. She was in her nightgown with a wrap covering her shoulders, and her dark hair was tied into a loose braid. It was late in the evening, and the room was warmed by a fire.</p><p>Darcy blinked repeatedly. He was standing in the opposite corner of the room. How he had arrived there, he did not know. It was as if he, or perhaps she, had materialized out of thin air. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his chambers in London.</p><p>She didn’t seem to sense his presence, but he had the distinct feeling that if he spoke to her, she would look at him. He watched her reflection in the mirror. A lump formed in his throat, as he slowly recognized the scene. As if on cue, the door to the parsonage opened. Darcy’s eyes widened as he saw himself stop in the doorway, holding the letter in his hand that he had hoped would provide him absolution.</p><p>His other self gazed intently at Elizabeth. She defiantly refused to turn to face him directly.</p><p>“I came to leave you this,” the Darcy in the doorframe said as he placed the letter on the window ledge. “I'm not going to renew the sentiments which were so disgusting to you, but to address the two offenses you have laid against me.”</p><p>Darcy winced as he watched himself wait for her response; he could easily read on his own face what he had been thinking. He had been hoping beyond hope that Elizabeth would turn to face him, that she would apologize for the words she had said, creating an opportunity for him to better explain himself. At the very least, he had hoped she would agree to read his letter. It was the least she could do. When Elizabeth did not move, the Darcy in the doorframe walked out, shutting the parsonage door quietly behind him.</p><p><em>Am I dreaming?</em> Darcy thought to himself. The vision before him was so well-defined; he could feel the wood floor beneath him, hear the clock quietly ticking, and Elizabeth was clearer than in any dream he had in the past months. It felt more like a vibrant memory than a dream.</p><p>A memory. <em>Is this what the apothecary had meant when he said I would need to live it all again in order to forget you? </em>Darcy tightened his fists at his sides as he tried to comprehend the sight before him. <em>This is the last time I saw you.</em></p><p>Abruptly, Elizabeth knocked herself out of her stupor, gasping as she turned around. It was as if she excepted to still see him in the doorframe. Darcy held his breath, feeling a need to watch her undisturbed as long as he could. His felt some dizziness of the incongruity of the situation.</p><p>It hardly made sense. If this was indeed a memory of his, how he could still see the scene before him, when in reality he had not lingered this long in the parsonage? He didn’t understand, but then again, every element of this supposed remedy was beyond compression. As he pondered these thoughts, Elizabeth grabbed the letter on the table, and unfurled it, reading it by the light of the fire.</p><p>Could this drink provide such a gift as being privy to her reactions as she read his letter, when he had not born witness to this in reality? Perhaps he had been rash in choosing to remove her from his memories before knowing what her reaction to the letter had been.</p><p><em>No</em>, he thought to himself. It had been weeks since he had delivered the letter to her at the parsonage. She had not made any attempt to reconcile with him. She had not given any indication to him that her feelings had changed. He decided adamantly that this was not a rash decision. This was the only action he could take to spare himself of this suffering of his own making. Still, he wondered if he could see what she thought about the letter. Determined not to interrupt this chain of events, he continued to not move.</p><p>As Elizabeth read, her breathing became more audible. Her hand went up to her mouth on more than one occasion, and the fire’s light caused the stray tears that had escaped her eyes to glisten. Her sensibilities were impacted. Perhaps the letter had been more effective than he had assumed. A creek of the floorboard interrupted his staring. Darcy looked at Mrs. Collins, seeing her before Elizabeth did.</p><p>“Lizzy?”</p><p>Elizabeth turned and hid the letter behind her back, as if caught.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Mrs. Collins said, clearly concerned for her friend.</p><p>In a hoarse voice, Elizabeth replied “I hardly know.”</p><p>She was moved by his words. She was <em>moved</em>. Could this be the truth of what had happened after he left the parsonage or was this his own wishful thinking? There was no way to know for sure, but he felt the urge to believe it so. So captivated was he by Elizabeth and Mrs. Collins’ exchange, that Darcy didn’t notice the walls begin to fade around him. The clock was no longer ticking, and the crackle of the fire became faint. As if he had blinked Elizabeth away, she and Mrs. Collins were suddenly gone from the room. The parsonage dissolved around him, and he found himself surrounded by emptiness.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth?” he whispered into the darkness. With these words, his surroundings began to rematerialize. He heard the rain first, then felt it washing over him. It was lucky he had his coat on. Whether he had his count before, he could not recall. Looking up, instead of the ceiling of the parsonage, he could see grey sky, and all around him greenery lush from recent spring rains. He was outdoors. A round, Grecian-inspired temple, stood on top of a small hill in front of him. He could barely make out Elizabeth’s drenched figure running towards it for shelter. Mr. Darcy followed slowly, unbothered by the rain, but dreading what was to come.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Author’s Note: If you’ve never seen the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I highly recommend checking it out. Those that have seen it have a better sense of where I’m going with this story. Just to warn you, a large amount of the dialogue for the proposal remains unchanged for this chapter. This will not necessarily be the case for memories in future chapters. I wanted to preserve the absolute heartbreak of the proposal. I am very excited for more creativity the following scenes will allow me! Thank you again, and please review!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was it. Darcy felt nauseous at even the sight of the temple. It may as well have been the gallows. Months he had spent reliving this moment, in torment every night.  He tried to gather his courage. One more time, and he would never have to think of this again.</p><p>As he approached the structure, he expected to see another version of himself there, but when he rounded the corner, there was no one there but a soaked Elizabeth. She startled at the sight of him, then straighten herself up seemingly to make herself more intimidating. Her run had left her cheeks flushed. The knot in Darcy’s stomach tightened at the sight of her.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy began. He remembered his words clearly, even the ones he wished to forget, but he was reluctant to continue, his courage fading. Did he have to do this again? His fists tightened beside him. He could already see her disdain for him. Her negative opinion of him was already fully formed. Darcy wondered how he hadn’t noticed it in her face before.</p><p>“I have struggled in vain, and I can bear it no longer,” the words came out of him before he could stop himself. “These past months have been a torment.” Darcy paused here. Yes, the months trying to ignore his growing affection for her <em>before</em> his proposal were bad, yet the months <em>since</em>, when he had no hope of her returning his affections, had been much worse. He continued, “I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you,” then more softly, “I had to see you.”</p><p>There were times when he had replayed this scene in his mind as he had expected it to go. He would give his speech, she would be flattered by his attention, and she would smile and accept his hand with exuberance. Sometimes, in his more colorful fantasies, she would even say she loved him too. How he wished that had been the case.</p><p>“I am not going to do this,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head and running his hands through his wet hair.</p><p>“Sir?” Elizabeth asked, her head tilting. Darcy looked at her, unsure of how to proceed. He was suddenly afraid to change too much of the memory. <em>What if it the process didn’t work correctly?</em> He couldn’t risk that after committing to this resolution. With that in mind, Darcy decided to persevere, “I have fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank and circumstance, all these things, and I am willing to put them aside and ask you to end my agony,”</p><p>“I don’t understand?” she said, looking at him quizzically.</p><p>Darcy had rehearsed telling her about the reasons for his hesitation, how he had carefully considered the reasons why they were not a good match, and then he was supposed to ask for her hand. He had not intended to tell her he loved her. In fact, he hadn’t realized just <em>how</em> desperately in love with her he was until the words had escaped his mouth last April.</p><p>“I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.” He felt a glimmer of hope that maybe she would accept this time. <em>As if it mattered</em>. She simply stared at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. And she partially was. He had never been so vulnerable with her. She looked askance, and as she summoned up her courage to speak, he braced himself.</p><p>“Sir, I- I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.”</p><p>“I should leave here,” he said, diverting from his course. It was simply too much. “I can still gather up what is left of my pride, make a graceful exit, and not endure this incivility,” he winced at his own choice of words, anticipating her response.</p><p>“Incivility? If I was uncivil, your words now and your behavior before to justify it. Mr. Darcy, you have never given me any indication that you look at me other than to find fault, and you know I have other reasons to decline your offer.  Do you think that anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”</p><p>This time, he was ready for this accusation. “I thought your sister was indifferent to Bingley. I watched them most carefully…” he paused. She seemed eager to hear his explanation, but her fury was unabated. “How did you,” he began slowly, “How did you know about Bingley?” It was something that had puzzled him exceedingly since he left Kent. It hardly mattered, since it was true, he had actively separated Miss Bennet and Bingley, but he still wondered how he had been exposed.</p><p>“Colonel Fitzwilliam told me. He said you had saved Mr. Bingley from a bad match. He didn’t know he was speaking about my own sister and that the unsuitable family was <em>mine</em>,” she replied, angrily.</p><p>Darcy closed his eyes momentarily, cursing the Colonel for being so indiscreet. Anything to direct his anger at anyone but himself.</p><p>“I suppose you suspect that his fortune had some bearing on the matter?” Elizabeth accused.</p><p>Darcy felt hot. She willfully believed the worst of him at every turn. “I wouldn’t do your sister the dishonor,” he replied, much more angrily than he intended.  “Though it was made perfectly clear that an advantageous marriage...”</p><p>“Did my sister give that impression?”</p><p>“No. No. There was, however, I have to admit, the matter of your family.”</p><p>“Our want of connection? Mr. Bingley didn’t seem to vex himself about that.”</p><p>Her interruptions frustrated Darcy, “No, it was more than that.”</p><p>“How, sir?” she challenged him.</p><p>“It was the lack of propriety shown by your mother, your three young sisters, and even on occasion, your father.” Thunder clapped suddenly around them at the end of his words, giving the impression that it had been summoned by Elizabeth’s fury.  “Forgive me. You and your sister I must exclude from this,” he offered, weakly. Agony was sweeping over him quickly. He covered his mouth with a hand in frustration, before running it through his wet hair. How had this gone so wrong?</p><p>“And what about Mr. Wickham?” she asked. In his renewed distressed, Darcy was unprepared for her question.</p><p>“Mr. Wickham?” he spat out, taking a step closer to her.</p><p>“What excuse can you give for your…your behavior towards him?” she questioned.</p><p>“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns.” It was an accusation.</p><p>“He told me of his misfortunes,” Elizabeth said, clearly undaunted.</p><p>“Oh yes, his misfortunes have been very great indeed,” he had replied thus, but he had dearly wanted to ask her if her and Wickham had an understanding. Of course the villainous Wickham would contribute to his greatest humiliation. It seemed only right that he would forever be plagued by him. It enraged Darcy.</p><p>“You ruin his chances, and yet, you treat him with sarcasm?”</p><p>“So this is your opinion of me. Thank you for explaining it so fully. Perhaps these offenses might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by <em>my honesty</em> in admitting scruples about our relationship,” he did not pause to let her cut in, “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?” When this memory started, Darcy had not wanted to experience this so fully again; he had hoped this could somehow be avoided, but now once he began experiencing this pain, and anger, and shame again, he lashed out like a wounded animal. There was no going back from his words, but he did not care.</p><p>“And those are the words of a gentleman?” Elizabeth said scathingly. Darcy felt like she had slapped him. “From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.”</p><p>Stunned, Darcy stared intently at her, his eyes dropping from her gaze to her lips. The desire to kiss her was overwhelming, despite the injury her words had inflicted. He felt the urge more strongly than he remembered. Or perhaps he was simply remembering how strong his urge had been. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he could close the gap between them. It would not be the first time he dreamt of kissing her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.  Instead, he spoke, attempting to keep his tone devoid of emotion, “Forgive me, madam, for taking up so much of your time.”</p><p>He knew this is where this memory ended. He would shortly run away from her to drown in sorrows alone in his chambers at Rosings. But he continued, remaining painfully close to her, “I declared myself to you despite all of these very real considerations and obstacles we will face, and you rejected me so quickly, with such little consideration, with such disdain.” Darcy felt the shame well up inside him that he almost spat the last word.</p><p>“You insulted my family! Your mode of declaration has simply spared me the concern that I might have felt in refusing you,” Elizabeth breathed heavily, her cheeks flushing again in anger. She stood her ground, not moving from the spot.</p><p>“How could you not even pause for a moment to consider all I have offered-“ his speech was cut short as she turned to walk away from him. He allowed himself the liberty of grabbing her hand to stop her. Her hands were cold.</p><p>She looked at him, astonished at what she perceived his implication to be, “What you have <em>offered</em>? I would <em>never</em> marry for money, despite what you think of me and my family, Mr. Darcy.”</p><p>“You misunderstand me, Miss Elizabeth, as you are always insist on doing. I meant myself. I offered you myself, my love, and my complete loyalty and utter devotion. Why is that insufficient?” He was almost pleading with her.</p><p>She looked at him with her large brown eyes. “You offered me insults, and I cannot forgive you for what you have done to Jane. <em>Goodbye</em>, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth pulled her hand away and continued walking around the curve of the temple.</p><p>Denied. Again. Darcy would admit that he had been spoilt as a child, that he had never wanted for anything. But he had always tried to do the right thing. He took care of Georgiana, of Pemberley, and honored the memory of his parent’s the best he could. How could it be that the one thing he desired most in the world would be denied to him now?</p><p>“You made your choice, and I’ve made mine. You are free to leave, Miss Elizabeth. By morning, you’ll be gone. I will wake up and not think of you again! It will be over.” he shouted at her retreating back. He blinked away tears and looked out towards the lake. The quiet fall of rain surrounded him, but curiously, the raindrops were suspended mid-air.  He shook his head, not understanding what he was seeing, and walked forward, hoping to follow her to the other side of the temple. She was nowhere to be found. </p><p>He continued around the temple, and inexplicably, he walked straight into the church as Mr. Collins delivered his sermon. He was still soaking wet from the rain, but no one seemed to pay any attention to him as he walked down the side aisle.</p><p><em>This is all happening in reverse. I must be remembering the most recent memories, first. </em>This was of no concern to him, as long as at the end of it, she, and the incessant knot in his heart and stomach, would be gone.</p><p>Mr. Collins’ voice was entirely unintelligible, likely because Darcy had paid no attention to his sermon on that fateful morning. He saw Lady Catherine and himself in the pew, and then, his cousin and Elizabeth whispering. He had felt jealousy then for Colonel Fitzwilliam’s happy manners and eagerness to sit by Elizabeth for the service, but now he was simply annoyed, as judging from the distressed look on Elizabeth’s face and how she grew increasingly pale, this must be the moment when the Colonel had relayed the information about Bingley.</p><p>Darcy continued walking through the church and out into the yard towards the parsonage.</p><p>The clouds were gone, and the sun began to shine through. It did not fit his mood at all. He could see the parsonage up ahead. With an angry sense of purpose, he wanted to finish what he had started.</p><p>He burst into the door of the parsonage rather unceremoniously, slightly out of breath. </p><p>As Elizabeth rose to meet him, he felt his anger begin to dissipate at the sight of her. Her change in mood was disorienting him. She looked at him kindly, if a bit puzzled to his appearance.</p><p>“Mr. Darcy,” she said in surprise, rising to bow. “Please, do be seated.” He ignored her offer and continued to stare at her, his heart tightening in his chest. How he longed for her to look at him kindly, to welcome him. It was a balm to his injured soul from the encounter a few moments ago.</p><p>“I’m afraid Mr. and Mrs. Collins are gone on business to the village.”</p><p>Darcy had intended to ask her for her hand, now. But the words had caught in his throat, and what came out instead was- “This is a charming house. I believe my aunt did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first arrived.”</p><p>“I believe so. She could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful subject,” Elizabeth replied, wryly. Her sense of humor delighted him, but he was too nervous to show it.</p><p>“Shall I call for some tea?” She asked, her voice sounding more distant with every word.</p><p>“No, thank you” he replied, and right on cue, the front door opened.</p><p>“Good day, Miss Elizabeth. It’s been a pleasure,” he said with warmth this time.  Everything dissolved into blackness before he even exited. His heart felt emptier than before. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We last left our hero reeling from reliving his disastrous proposal, but he is determined to see this through! I promise a little more divergence from the familiar dialogue, as our hero decides to take some things into his own hands. This chapter was difficult, as I have a lot of what comes after this, but this was something I had to work on amidst everything that is happening right now. I hope you are staying safe and healthy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He heard Elizabeth’s voice through the darkness.</p><p>
  <em>“Mr. Darcy! What are you doing here?” …. “You know my nephew.?”…. “Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting your nephew in Hertfordshire.” … “Mr. Collins! You can’t sit next to your wife…”   </em>
</p><p>The voices faded in and out, distorted. A blur of figures began to appear before him, and just as his dizziness threatened to overcome him, he was sitting at the dining table in Rosings.</p><p>
  <em>“My eldest sister is currently in London…”</em>
</p><p>The scene came into focus mid-conversation. Darcy looked from his plate of white soup to Lady Catherine and Elizabeth.</p><p>“Has your governess left you?</p><p>“We never had a governess.”</p><p>“No governess? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess, I never heard such a thing! Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”</p><p>“Not at all Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth replied kinder than his aunt deserved.</p><p>Here, Darcy ventured to look at her. Her grace under scrutiny had only endeared him to her further. He felt a rush of warmth, evaporating the anger he had felt only moments ago at her cruelty towards him. Darcy recognized this forgotten, not unpleasant, feeling as the nervous energy he felt in the pit of his stomach when he saw her at Rosings. He had come to Rosings with the single object of seeing her. He needed to see her to confirm whether it was a fleeting infatuation or whether he was determined to have her. His feelings for her had seen her walking across the yard from the parsonage. His heart fluttered at the sight of her. After his failed proposal, this warmth for her had been replaced by bitterness. He had somehow forgotten the true effect she had on him.</p><p>Lady Catherine continued to prattle on “Your younger sisters, are they…,” but he was no longer listening to her. Here, now, he did not need to show his difficult aunt any more attention than she deserved. Instead, he looked at Elizabeth in awe.</p><p>“You were magnificent,” he spoke tenderly to Elizabeth. She still held the spoon filled with a soup she had not yet tasted. Elizabeth looked at him and flashed him a dazzling smile.</p><p>“I was, was I not? My courage always rises at any attempt to intimidate me,” she replied, looking rather pleased with herself.</p><p>He smiled softly, “Undoubtably. You certainly did not need my help, but I should have censured her. Aunt Catherine has always been difficult, but her lack of propriety towards you was particularly trying,” he explained.</p><p>“As you well know, Mr. Darcy, I am familiar with the embarrassment stemming from the indecorous behavior of family members. Sometimes there is not much anyone can do about the behavior of one’s nearest relations besides take it in stride with a smile” she said, her eyes twinkling. Darcy was rendered momentarily speechless. He had not, even in the months since this very dinner, taken much time to consider the similarities in their positions. He had never seen the Bennets act maliciously rude as his Aunt often did. In comparison to his Aunt’s behavior, Mrs. Bennet was not nearly as ridiculous.</p><p>“Yes, I suppose that is an excellent way to handle it,” he replied finally, afraid that not replying would somehow hasten the end of the memory. Darcy’s heart tightened; how long did he have with her here?  They would go through a few more courses, and then they would be in the parlor. His attempt to recollect how much time he had seemed to speed up the dinner. He heard snippets of the rest of the conversation, mostly Colonel Fitzwilliam trying to finally distract Lady Catherine from interrogating Elizabeth further, but he was intent on fixing his gaze on Elizabeth.</p><p>When he finally looked away from her, he was no longer at the table. Instead, they were all at the parlor. Elizabeth was enjoying visiting with exotic birds when his Aunt requested, she play. He remembered feeling curious to her ability, as he had never heard her play before, and watched with interest as she made her way cautiously to the piano. Ignoring his aunt’s voice, which seemed far away to him now, he quickly made his way to Elizabeth’s side.</p><p>She glanced at him, “You mean to frighten me Mr. Darcy, by coming in all your state to hear me. But I will not be alarmed, even if your sister does play so well.”</p><p>He attempted more of a smile than he had previously. Why had he been so grim around her? He felt simultaneously delighted and terrified by her proximity at dinner, and he was drawn to her now like a magnet.  This evening had solidified in his mind that he wanted her at his side always. He never wanted to sit in a parlor or enjoy a dinner without Elizabeth Bennet.</p><p>“I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Elizabeth, to know that I cannot alarm you even should I wish it,” Darcy replied. Her small scoff made the corners of his mouth turn upward. He enjoyed teasing her.</p><p> She did play quite well, and he wished to listen to her forever. But when he woke up in the morning, he realized, he would not even remember what the melody she played sounded like or the way her hands moved determinedly over the keys. His heart clenched.</p><p>Colonel Fitzwilliam had made his way over. That blasted man was about to ask an impertinent question, “What was my friend like in Hertfordshire?”</p><p>Darcy refrained from rolling his eyes. It would give Richard no greater pleasure than to make sport of Darcy, and Darcy knew even then that Elizabeth was the perfect person to indulge his cousin. He braced himself for Elizabeth’s response.</p><p>“You really care to know? Prepare yourself for something very dreadful,” she shot a warning look to both Darcy and the Colonel. Darcy grimaced.</p><p>“The first time I saw him, he danced with nobody at all, even though gentlemen were scarce and there was more than one young lady sitting down without a partner.” The Colonel looked at him with a smile. Darcy ignored him entirely.</p><p>“I knew nobody beyond my own party,” he defended himself weakly.</p><p>“Oh, and nobody can be introduced in a ballroom,” Elizabeth replied with a touch of hostility. As his cousin moved away from them, Darcy knew the end of the evening was drawing near. Lady Catherine would send the Collins’ and Elizabeth away shortly, no doubt in part because of the attention he had shown Elizabeth. He knew it drew ire from his Aunt. He did not care then, but he certainly was beginning to care now, worried as the memory would begin to fade.</p><p><em>Why do I care?</em> He asked himself. The sooner he finished erasing his memories of her, the sooner the knot in his heart would untighten, and he would be able to breathe again. He would no longer spend his nights agonizing over his failure to win her heart.</p><p><em>But you hardly attempted to win it. Not truly. </em> Darcy shook his head at his own thought, and then realized Elizabeth had resumed her playing.</p><p>“I do not have the talent of conversing easily with people I have never met before,” he offered by way of explanation. He so desperately wanted her to understand him. He had often felt that during her acquaintance she did understand him.</p><p>Elizabeth held his gaze as she spoke, “Perhaps you should take your aunt’s advice and <em>practice</em>.”</p><p>He was struck when she had said it, not because it had offended him, but because he had so few people in his life who challenged him. Many people cared deeply for him- Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana certainly- but he conducted himself in such a way that discouraged anyone from rebuking him. Except for Elizabeth. She was consistent in her pressure for him improve on his deficiencies. Was that not also what she was doing when she rejected him? Insist that he behave in a more gentleman like manner?  Why had he not seen it this way before? He had been angered by her rejection so greatly that he barely paused to consider how her words were not without cause. And now he would not have the opportunity to correct himself.</p><p>Lost in his thought, Darcy suddenly remembered what was happening. He was supposed to walk away from her, and surely the memory would end, and he would never think of this moment again. He rooted himself to the spot, one hand still resting on the piano. Why was the desire to prolong the moment so strong? He gritted his teeth, looking down at her as she played. She seemed determined to ignore him.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth-” he began unexpectantly. Her hands stopped suddenly, a discordant note playing as she looked up at him.</p><p>“Mr. Darcy, how am I supposed to provide entertainment to her Ladyship’s standards if you keep inter—” she stopped suddenly, glancing behind him. “Where is Charlotte? Did everyone leave?” she asked, confused. Darcy turned his head slightly, wanting to somehow keep Elizabeth in his sight while confirming what he suspected. The room was empty.</p><p>“You can see that they are gone?” he asked her, confused and surprised.</p><p>“Yes. What is happening?”</p><p>He sensed he did not have enough time to explain it to her even if he wanted to. The dizziness was threatening to overtake him again. The colors and shapes in the room were losing their sharpness.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth-“ Darcy repeated, boldly taking a seat next to her on the piano bench, in part to stop the spinning. He needed to be near to her before this memory slipped away. She instinctively created space by moving further down the small bench. “Miss Elizabeth, you are quiet right in your advice. I should and can practice conversing with those I do not know well. I find all my conversations with you…well, almost all our conversations…exceedingly pleasant. Would it please you if I attempted to overcome my natural disposition to silence?” he spoke rapidly, desperate for confirmation of what, he did not know. To where did these questions tend? Darcy could not be sure, but he wanted answers. These recollections, spurred by the joyful feelings she produced in himself, were helping him see a different path forward. But how could he stop what he had started?</p><p>“Happy manners satisfy everyone. But why would <em>you</em> want to please <em>me</em>, sir?” Elizabeth asked quietly, her dark eyebrows raising suspiciously. She was impossibly close. His leg touched hers. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to her ear. </p><p>“Because you are worthy of being pleased,” he whispered. She turned to face him more fully, eyes wide and curious, her face remaining inches from his.</p><p><em>Please, do not let this dream end</em>.</p><p>And as soon as he finished his thought, she was gone. The pianoforte still in front of him. Darcy brought his elbows to the keys, causing a cacophony of notes to fill the darkness, and rested his face in his hands.</p><p>
  <em>I want her out of my mind. I want to wake up, and I never want to think of her again. She is disgusted by the thought of me. This was the right thing to do. I never want to think of her again. </em>
</p><p>“Thinking it does not make it the truth in my heart,” he whispered aloud into his hands. He rubbed his eyes. His hands moved from his face, and he could see he was no longer in Rosings. No, it was now Netherfield’s more tasteful rooms coming into focus.  He was in the library at Netherfield and judging from the chatter and light music he could hear from down the hall, it was the night of the ball. He had to continue. He was never one to not finish what he started. He was almost to the end. He was almost to the end. As this dawned on Darcy, he stood abruptly. It was almost the end of their time together. What could he do?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The premise is turning out to be a little more challenging than I anticipated, so thank you for the kudos. The story now has a life of its own! I am very excited for this and the following chapters as it must almost be the end of their time together soon! I think this is the longest chapter yet, as I changed my mind about where to end this chapter. Hope it is satisfying enough until the next one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>"Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders." ~ Nietzsche</p>
<hr/><p>The large windows in the Netherfield library overlooked the estate's main entrance. Even as a special guest of Bingley, Darcy remembered he had been disinclined to join the festivities a moment earlier than what was absolutely required. He instead sought refuge in the library with the blessing of Bingley, whose excitement for the ball could not be tempered by Caroline or Darcy's unenthusiastic participation. Darcy knew very well why the memory of the Netherfield ball started at the library. He had stood sentry at the window to watch the guests arrive, hoping for an unobserved glimpse of the Bennets. Or rather, one Bennet in particular.</p><p>Cautiously, Darcy approached the window. Sure enough, the Bennet carriage was just arriving. His breath hitched as Elizabeth, dressed impeccably in white with pearly white beads adorning her dark hair, followed her sister out of the carriage. He raised his right hand to his face, closing his eyes and pinching his nose in frustration.</p><p>"Wake up," Darcy said to himself. "Wake up." She had looked frustratingly lovely this night. This evening would confirm he was losing himself to her, and now, if he could not remember this ball, what would become of his feelings for her?</p><p>His hopes were dashed as he opened his eyes, still in the Netherfield library. Although, the library itself was becoming less distinct the longer he lingered. With a tired resignation to a fate that now seemed inevitable, Darcy headed towards the door and descended rapidly down the stairs in time to see Elizabeth meandering through the crowd, clearly looking for someone. He had flattered himself then that perhaps she had been looking for him, but now with the knowledge of her fiery denial still in his head, he realized she likely had been seeking someone else.</p><p>Darcy skirted faceless guests all around him, his only goal to follow Elizabeth. Unfortunately, by the time he had made it through the crush of guests, Elizabeth was already enduring a dance with the odious Mr. Collins. His pulse quickened, feeling the resurgence of annoyance he had felt knowing Elizabeth had to tolerate the company of that man.</p><p>Darcy needed to think. In the previous memory, he had spoken with her, and she was observant of the changing memory around them. Perhaps jumbling the memories could result in it not fading away? Still pondering his thoughts, Darcy allowed Collins and Elizabeth to finish their dance. He was certain this process was working; the scenes were too vivid, and his own emotions and recollection too raw for the drink to not be doing <em>anything</em>, but he could not be sure. The emptiness that was growing inside him seemed to confirm that <em>something</em> was happening to him. This filled him with more dread than he anticipated. Why couldn't he just wake up?</p><p>As Elizabeth hurried out of the room with Miss Lucas, Darcy jolted himself from his thoughts and ran through one of the opposite doors to cut them off in the hallway. Her laughter echoed loudly above the din of the crowd.</p><p>"May I have the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?" he breathed out as he made it in time to stop the pair in their tracks. He winced slightly at her clear displeasure.</p><p>"You may," Elizabeth replied coolly. Taking a deep breath, Darcy bowed to Miss Lucas, and offered his arm to Elizabeth.</p><p>"Please, allow me to escort you."</p><p>Clearly perturbed, Elizabeth reluctantly accepted his arm. He led her to the dance floor, and they starred at each other as they waited for the music to begin. She was challenging him with her look, and he was faltering under her gaze. Like before, he was unable to put two words together to form a coherent sentence, so startled was he by her proximity and intensity. The tension was again palatable. When the music began, they moved flawlessly in sync with each other.</p><p>"I love this dance," Elizabeth said, a small but wry smile appearing on her lips. Still contemplating the best course of action, Darcy did not reply at all.</p><p>"It is your turn to say something, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, clearly annoyed.</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy stopped before she could continue. Elizabeth stopped with him, almost bumping into him as she did so. "I am afraid I've become very overheated; will you accompany me outside for fresh air?" He extended his arm out to her again. By some grace, or perhaps his own vivid and hopeful imagination, she nodded and took his arm.</p><p>Darcy led her gently through the crowd, which parted mechanically for them. The violin behind them was suddenly ominously low, the crowd quiet, the candles less bright. Surely the evening was fading away, but he would buy himself as much time as he could.</p><p>The balcony overlooked the front entrance and was lit only by the moonlight and the stray light that flowed out from inside. Darcy approached the edge as Elizabeth let go of his arm. He leaned on the handrail, his hands resting on the cold stone. How real it all felt.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy, if you are not feeling well, perhaps I should find a servant or notify Mr. Bingley, as I'm sure they are much better equipped to take care of you." Elizabeth had stopped near the door. Darcy glanced back at her, seeing her radiant form backlit by the candlelight, and her face glowing in the light of the moon.</p><p>"If you would allow me to impose on your kindness for just a moment longer. Please stay," he asked quietly.</p><p>"I suppose you are not to be refused," Elizabeth's voice was icy. He could not tell if she was teasing him, and looked away from her, looking out to the grounds of Netherfield. He gripped the stone tightly.</p><p>"You would be surprised," he retorted. They were silent. He briefly feared this moment was done, and that she was already gone, as he had completely distorted the course of the evening's events. Darcy was again torn between feeling sorrow and relief. They were near the beginning of their acquaintance. He would wake up soon enough.</p><p>He was so sure she was already vanished that he jumped slightly when she approached to stand next to him. He looked at her, and thought of how his feelings had been confirmed this evening, despite, or maybe because of, how argumentative she had been with him. His jealousy when she spoke of Wickham had raised his temper and confirmed his growing feelings for her.</p><p>As if sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth spoke, "I had hoped to see a new acquaintance of mine here tonight, but it seems that his relationship to you may have impacted his attendance."</p><p>Darcy's turned his head quickly to her, his blue eyes icy. "I would hope a clever woman such as yourself would not be so easily taken in by Mr. Wickham's charms," he said, speaking a thought he held in his heart for months since his failed proposal. Before she could object to his statement, he powered on. "I do not know the nature of his lies to you, but I can assure you from experience that Mr. Wickham is deceitful and not to be trusted."</p><p>"He told me of his misfortunes," she stated plainly. Darcy restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the familiar refrain. At least, he thought her statement was familiar, but he could not place exactly when she had said this to him. His eyebrows scrunched up in concentration for a moment, his heart beginning to beat faster in a panic. Why couldn't he remember when she said that?</p><p>"You have ruined his chances," Elizabeth continued. Here, Darcy snapped back to the moment to respond.</p><p>"No, Miss Elizabeth. He refused to take the orders he and my father had agreed upon, choosing to receive his sizable living and spent it in a matter of weeks, and then I prevented his elopement with my sister. He convinced Georgiana that he was in love with her, but when it was made clear he would not receive any of her inheritance, he abandoned her." The words flowed out of Darcy. It was all much easier to say when everything would be gone by morning.</p><p>He held her gaze as he continued, "Georgiana's despair was unlike anything I had seen…up until that time. You do not have to believe me, but it is the truth. I am sorry I could not have told this to you sooner. I could have been more forthcoming with you," he concluded.</p><p>Elizabeth was looking at him curiously. They were silent for a long moment. The air was quiet. No music or sounds of the ball were heard. Darcy no longer cared. He was now deeply in thought about how much Georgiana's disposition had changed since the summer. He cursed Wickham for hurting Georgiana.</p><p>"I am so sorry. For your sister," Elizabeth finally said, seeming to be processing this new bit of information with a significant amount of agitation.</p><p>"What is done is done. I only regret how much it has hurt Georgiana."</p><p>"She will be stronger for the trials she has experienced," Elizabeth said, her voice soft. "Heartbreak is a teacher unlike any other."</p><p>Darcy's mouth went dry. Elizabeth was, of course, right. Could not he learn from his heartbreak too? Had he not learnt <em>something</em>? And now, whatever opportunity for him to better himself, would be vanished because of his foolhardy actions.</p><p>They stood in silence. She was staring intently at him. "What are you thinking?" Darcy finally asked. It was a question that was on his mind every moment he was with her when she was not speaking her mind.</p><p>"I am trying to make out your character. You have given me so few glimpses to who you are, that it puzzles me exceedingly."</p><p>"I wish I could offer you more clarity in the future. But I'm afraid that is not going to be the case," Darcy stated grimly.</p><p>"Are you planning to leave Hertfordshire?" she asked. Her icy demeanor seemed to be melting in the warmth of his revelation about Wickham and Georgiana.</p><p>"Yes," he replied. It was not untrue. After the ball, and the ridiculous display by the Bennets that was surely still carrying on inside, and his own misreading of Miss Bennet's intentions, Darcy was going to convince Bingley to leave. He was saving Bingley as much as he was saving himself. But, he also knew their time together was coming to an end in more ways than one.</p><p>"Then I will not have the opportunity to further sketch your character. What a shame, as I feel as though I may finally make some headway. I suppose that is the danger of speaking candidly to one another for once," she said. The first smile she had granted him all evening formed on her lips. He returned it with a small smile of his own.</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth, I think I may have done something I regret. And I will not be able to make it right," he said suddenly, knowing he was not going to make much sense. He dropped his gaze away from her, hanging his head in frustration. Elizabeth looked at him thoughtfully.</p><p>"I am not sure I can offer many words of advice if that is what you seek, Mr. Darcy. I tend to only think of the past as its remembrances give me pleasure. A life of regret is no happy life at all. Maybe it is wisest to make the best decisions you can as you move forward. Come, let us rejoin the festivities. We have been out here alone for too long." Elizabeth said, patting his left arm gently to comfort him. He raised his right hand to take her hand in his and opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation.</p><p>Perhaps they could solve this together. No explanation came out though, as he was rendered momentarily speechless by her beauty in the moonlight. Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion at his look, and she pulled her hand from his and walked back towards the doorway. Darcy turned to follow her. He could faintly hear one of Elizabeth sister's singing poorly at the piano, and Mrs. Bennet's loud exclamations regarding an advantageous marriage. She was moving through the crowd. He took a step forward and was stopped by the doors slamming shut in front of him. Enveloped in the darkness caused by the sudden shuttering of the doors, he rummaged for the handles and, finding them, pulled roughly with both hands. The doors did not budge. He pulled again, and again, until with force, the doors opened. Darcy had to prevent himself from falling backwards and looked with alarm into an empty and dark room before him. She was gone.</p><p>Darcy moved forward into the empty room and glanced down the dark hall of Netherfield. He could see a patch a light ahead. He walked towards it, and as he approached he saw it was himself at a writing desk. He realized by his disheveled state, it was him during his stay at Rosings, not Netherfield. He was writing the letter to her. Confused, Darcy moved cautiously around himself, breaking into a sprint as soon as he was safely past his own form. Ahead, he could see Elizabeth and her sisters near a riverbed, even though he was certain he was still in Netherfield. "Miss Elizabeth!" he called, but there came no response.</p><p>As he ran towards them, they remained the same distance away. He could not get closer. To his dismay, he watched from afar as he and Bingley appeared on horseback. It was the day he saw Wickham near Elizabeth. His anger and jealousy bubbled inside him so much he could practically taste it. Elizabeth was looking from Wickham to Darcy with curiosity. Then, the light extinguished, and the scene was gone. He could hear the sounds of the horses as Bingley rode after him, calling for him to slow down and explain his behavior, but he could not see him. He kept running through what he was certain was still Netherfield, and as he did, the sun burst through the windows and the corridor rematerialized brightly around him. He ran forward, attempting to reach the open doors at the end of the hall, but as he crossed the threshold to the room, he stopped suddenly. Caroline Bingley sat at the breakfast table, reading a letter.</p><p>Darcy sat hurriedly next to her on impulse. Caroline was completely undisturbed and did not seem to notice his heavy breathing from his exerted running. His newspaper was in front of him, but he looked straight ahead, ignoring Caroline's ramblings entirely, waiting with bated breath. A moment passed before the footman entered and announced her.</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."</p><p>Darcy rose to his feet instantly.</p><p>"Good lord Miss Elizabeth, did you walk here?" Caroline's astonished voice exclaimed.</p><p>"I did." Elizabeth responded, smiling. Her cheeks and nose were flushed with the exertion from her walk. Her hair was wildly and inappropriately down, splayed across her shoulders.</p><p>Darcy strode towards her, crossing the length of the room in a few steps. This had been the moment his heart had stirred for her. Her charming face, her energy, and her propensity to kindness had been apparent the minute she graced them with her presence after making the three-mile walk from Longbourn.</p><p>He reached her and cupped her face in both his hands. Her cheeks were cold from the morning chill, and she smelt of lavender and wilderness, and although she was startled at his approach, she did not move away. He tilted his head down and drew his lips to hers.</p><p>She vanished before their lips touched. His hands were empty.</p><p>"No," he said, grabbing the column next to him to steady himself.</p><p><em>"Did you see her hem? Six inches deep in mud…."</em> Caroline's voice was fading away.</p><p>Darcy ached with the realization that he had started something he did not want to finish.</p><p>"I do not want this anymore. This must stop. Please," he whispered, "Wake up, damn it," he yelled, willing himself to wake up and perhaps stop this before she was entirely gone.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Darcy concentrated on the coolness of the marble column as he steadied himself, his head bowing in frustration. He breathed in and then breathed out slowly. He would not let himself be defeated. As he often did when presented with a problem in the management of Pemberley, he would need a plan. But first, he needed to find her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the breakfast room and headed for the next logical place he could think of- the sitting room. He walked more calmly than he felt, torn between slowing his progression through the memory and reaching Elizabeth quickly. He was relieved to find Bingley, Caroline, and Elizabeth calmly situated in the sitting room. Elizabeth was reading, and Bingley and Caroline sat next to each other opposite of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mr. Darcy, thank goodness you have finally joined us. It is an incredibly dull day," Caroline exclaimed, rising from where she sat next to Bingley. Elizabeth glanced only momentarily at him, then flickered her eyes back her book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would anyone like to accompany me on a walk?" he asked, looking directly at Elizabeth. Sensing she was being spoken to directly, Elizabeth raised her head and looked at him, then glanced at Caroline and Bingley skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What a marvelous idea! A stroll through the garden sounds absolutely delightful," Caroline replied and began to step towards Darcy to be escorted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Darcy, suddenly wishing Caroline would be the one vanishing from his memory, ignored her entirely and moved towards Elizabeth, standing directly in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss Elizabeth?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly not wanting to appear rude, Elizabeth nodded and stood. Darcy grabbed her gently by the arm and began leading her out of the room. As they crossed the doorway, he turned and slammed the door shut to prevent Caroline from joining them. Whether it would work or not, he had no idea, but it seemed like a clever idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth gasped at him, both for his insistent in leading her by the arm and for his sudden shunning of his hosts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They will be fine. We need to leave immediately," he said, encouraging her down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir, what is the matter?" she asked, her voice severe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Many things. Please, trust me," he said, leading her back down the corridor. The doors to each room down the corridor were swung open in front of them and inside one he saw a brief image of Mrs. Bennet and a gaggle of Bennet sisters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em><span>What an excellent room you have, Sir! Such expensive furnishings…</span></em>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth, who was still allowing herself to be led, craned her neck in shock to see her mother unexpectedly in the room as they passed. Darcy and Elizabeth shared a grimace at Mrs. Bennet's words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When did mama arrive?" Elizabeth asked, coming to a halt. Darcy was forced to stop with her. "I need to prevent her from completely embarrassing Jane," she said, tugged herself in the opposite direction he was trying to lead her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, wait. She's not really here. I can explain everything to you in due time, but we must leave Netherfield. We are not safe here," Darcy tightened the grip on her arm slightly to emphasize his point and prayed that Elizabeth would heed him. His seriousness concerned her enough to continue walking with him, but she pulled her arm out of his grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you insist. I can follow you," she said plainly. Darcy nodded and hastened his pace out the main entry way, taking the steps down two at a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should go to the woods," he said and turned back. Elizabeth was not there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widen, but as he swung forward, he saw her at the Bennet carriage, along with her family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bingley was handing Miss Bennet into the carriage, and Elizabeth was saying farewell to Caroline. Darcy darted to them, grabbing Elizabeth's hand as she stepped up into the carriage that would take her back to Longbourne. She glanced back at him, only halfway up, and this time, Darcy did not let go. He held her gaze intently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come with me, Miss Elizabeth," he pulled her hand, and she took his cue and stepped down from the carriage. "We must hide somewhere, anywhere else, and you must stay there until morning. My happiness depends on it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, walking briskly next to him as his pace quickened, pulling her away from Netherfield. Their hands were now entwined, as he was not going to make the mistake of letting her out of his sight again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a loud crash and the sound of stone cracking behind them. They both paused to look back, and Elizabeth gasped as she watched Netherfield begin to crumble. Elizabeth moved towards the building, but Darcy grabbed her by the waist to restrain her gently. He could see the Bennets and Bingleys were no where to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There is no one there. Everything will be alright," Darcy said gently to her, really reassuring himself as he began moving them away again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking as briskly as he could manage, he took them past the trees that stood near the path to the estate, and then began leading them through the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a sense of foreboding behind him, as he was certain the memory of their time together of Netherfield was evaporated with the destruction of the edifice. How much time did he have? He picked up his pace to a run, and she obliged, trying to keep up with his wide strides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mr. Darcy, while I am very fond of walking, I would like an answer to my question before we go further. Where are we going? What do you mean we must hide?" she asked breathlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were somewhere on the walk between Longbourne and Netherfield and had come across a grove of trees. He remembered this from a ride he had taken during his visit. Since they had never been in such a place together, he felt safe that the scene would not disappear around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss Elizabeth, please trust me. And this is going to sound as if I have gone mad, and perhaps I have because this is all in my head, but I did something I should not have done. I visited an apothecary and requested some kind of drink that would erase my memories of you if I drank it. All of it. So that is what I did. It is erasing my memories of you one by one." The explanation tumbled out of him, and he looked at her self-consciously, lost about what to do. She starred at him incredulously, her head cocking to the side as a small smile began to form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My goodness. Why would you do a thing like that? I know our time together has been a little uncomfortable, but why could you not just leave Netherfield and return to the <em><span>varied</span></em> society of London? It is not as if we are part of the same social circles. This is very strange, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth said with a smile, clearly teasing him. He enjoyed being on the receiving end of her teasing, even though it slightly unsettled him given his current emotional distress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found her way to a fallen tree log and took a seat, not caring if her coat or dress were sullied. He thought she looked lovely with her dark hair up, several strands escaping from her bun due to their exertion, looking at him like he was out of his mind, which he most certainly was, he reminded himself, since he was talking to a figment entirely of his imagination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is quite the opposite. You don't know it yet, and frankly at <em><span>this</span></em> time in our acquaintance, I barely know it myself, but I love you." How natural it felt to express his love for her. "But," he continued, "you will decline my offer, and I will take the easiest way out on a whim. Trust me, Miss Elizabeth, I do not want to forget you, even if it means living with your rejection."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth was startled by his confession. "You love me? But you do not even like me. It is commonly known you are above being pleased and above the company in Hertfordshire. Considering how I am only tolerable, and not so accomplished as say, Miss Bingley." By the end of her statement, she had recovered from the shock and wanted to bait him, "You hardly speak to me," she finished, managing to sound incredulous and wounded at the same time. Darcy felt the sudden desire to explain, but not defend, himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I talk to you more than others. And I am more interested in your thoughts above anyone else's. I found our conversations during your stay at Netherfield most stimulating. Please do not only think on my first impression of you at the assembly," Darcy softened his voice as he continued, "I have reevaluated my position and have long since considered you one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance." He smiled as Elizabeth's cheeks pinked while she valiantly tried to appear unmoved by his compliment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will not even address what you said about Miss Bingley, as you very well know she irritates me beyond measure," Darcy said, somewhat exasperatedly. Not wanting to upset the balance of the log she was resting on by sitting on it, he took a spot beside her on the ground, raising one knee up to prop his arm on it. He looked up at her, wanting to keep her in sight in case she started to disappear. Her head was tilted to the side and her eyebrows crinkled as she pushed her palms down on the log, clearly lost in thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that is very curious. I suppose our conversations have been interesting. But you say I declined your offer? Of <em><span>marriage</span></em>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Miss Elizabeth, what other offer could I make to the daughter of a gentleman?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smirked slightly at his cheekiness, and continued, "I will admit that presently, a proposal from you would surprise me. You should know Mr. Darcy, and perhaps I will tell you this in the future, that only the deepest affection will inspire me to marry, so perhaps that is why I declined your offer?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That may have been helpful for me to know, Miss Elizabeth. But I was rendered ignorant by my own assumptions that you felt the same way I did, or at the very least, would not reject me." Darcy struggled through his thoughts, wondering if this conversation would become too unpleasant for him. However, speaking with her about this seemed better than nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Furthermore, you will have reasons to deny me. Justifiably so. I understand them better now than I did on that day, or even yesterday. I was so self-assured you felt the way I did because how could you not?" Elizabeth scoffed quietly at his statement, but Darcy continued, "I was wrong. You have seen my behavior up until now. I have done very little to be worthy of your passion and affection."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no, Mr. Darcy, upon some reflection, I think you have done things to be worthy of my passionate opinions. They just have not been as favorable as you may like. It actually annoys me greatly that I am anything but indifferent to you," Elizabeth interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so very nice to talk with her. To sit with her, so closely and intimately, when she looked at him with amusement rather than hatred and derision, he did not want to ruin it, but even in his own mind, he abhorred any kind of deceit. He looked up to her, his pale blue eyes looking pained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I know you are not indifferent. You express your anger with me most eloquently," when Elizabeth looked surprise at this revelation of her own openness with him, he shook his head. "No, believe me, I gave you plenty of reason for incivility. In a misguided preamble to my proposal, I insult your family. I must beg your forgiveness on the next thing I am about to say. Another reason you reject me is because I am, or was, a willing participant in a plot to separate Bingley from Miss Jane Bennet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir?" Elizabeth questioned, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at him, challenging him to continue. She seemed not at all interested in anything else he had said. What mattered now was the peril to her sister's happiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I believed your sister indifferent to him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Indifferent? My sister hardly…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shows her true feelings to you, I know, that is exactly you say when you reject me and subsequently tell me I am the last man in the world you could ever be prevailed upon to marry," Darcy managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice. How dramatic her statement had been! This actually amused him slightly now, with a little more distance from the event. In fact, he now wondered how often she had thought about <em><span>not</span></em> marrying him. Yes, it was much better than indifference.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth's eyebrows raised, and then her eyes softened, "I must have been very angry with you to say such a thing." Darcy looked away, but she continued, "I can see why you were hurt, for a person you love to say something like that. I suppose with everything you said though, cannot some of it be righted? You could apologize to me, the real me, for what you said about my family, and you could reunite Mr. Bingley and Jane."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. I am afraid I will not have the chance to the latter if I wake up with no memory of my folly to begin with. I am sorry for that, as I believe Bingley cares about your sister very much."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth seemed heartened to hear that. "Perhaps, there will be a way to make things right. We must figure it out, for Jane's sake, and if you truly do not want to forget about me, then for your sake too. Mr. Darcy, you said whatever this mixture is was erasing memories of me, one by one?" Darcy nodded, looking up at her again. He was slightly disappointed she seemed more concerned for Miss Bennet than for herself or him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. They disappear one by one. I relive them, mostly as they happened to me," he cleared his throat a little, "And then you disappear."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why haven't I disappeared yet?" she asked curiously, holding out her hands as if expecting to find them suddenly translucent, clearly intrigued by this game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I imagine because this is all…well, it is make believe. I visited these trees once when I was out riding, but we have never been here together. I think if I can keep you somewhere you are not supposed to be, perhaps I will still remember you in the morning. If something remains of you inside my memory, tucked away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But are not these trees on a hill overlooking Longbourn?" she asked unexpectedly, lifting her head and looking in the opposite direction from where they came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I believe so-" Darcy interrupted himself and stood up suddenly, causing a rustle of the dried leaves below him, remembering the ride he took when he first found this grove after she and Miss Bennet had departed Netherfield, and how he had surveyed Longbourn from it with a small hope he would run into Elizabeth on one of her walks. His thoughts in this cluster of trees had been filled entirely with Elizabeth. Her charms. Their conversations at Netherfield. Her suitability. Her as his wife. "You're right, we should go." As if on cue, he noticed the trees around him begin to lose their clearly defined shape. They'd been found. He seized both her hands, lifting her to her feet to try to run again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mr. Darcy, you need to hide me somewhere deeper. Somewhere far away from Hertfordshire, far away from the time our acquaintance, before we met" Elizabeth said, her voice sounding suddenly very far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I cannot think of anything other than you," he replied, panicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth tilted her head, smiling. "Well that is very sweet and certainly surprising, Mr. Darcy, but you must try," she gripped his hands tightly. "For me, and Jane, and Mr. Bingley. You must try."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Darcy could see the darkness growing around them. He held onto her hands, and then closed his eyes, determined to find a place to hide her until morning in the deep recess of his memory.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Author's Note: Oh goodness! Where will they end up? Thank you for all your kudos and taking the time to review, and I can’t wait to hear from you all! Next update will be by Sunday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Where are we?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Darcy opened his eyes. They were on a small, grassy hill overlooking a lake. Beyond the lake was the grandest house Elizabeth had ever seen. Everything seemed alive with life as blackbirds chirped in the trees around them and every color seemed the most vibrant version of itself. The weather was much warmer than it was in his Hertfordshire memory. It was summer.</p><p>"Pemberley," he replied. The sound of water splashing reached them. Darcy let go of Elizabeth's hands as she walked towards the downward slope of the hill to obtain a better view. The entrance to the grand house was at the other end of the large lake. Darcy and Elizabeth observed the child causing the noise at the lake. The boy had dark hair and even from their distance, Elizabeth could see a resemblance. He held a makeshift fishing pole whose line he was launching enthusiastically into the lake.</p><p>"Is that you, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked with amusement.</p><p>"Yes. I think I am but ten or eleven years old here. I do not think of my childhood often, but this is the first thing that came to mind. It is well before I met you."</p><p>The young Darcy near the lake plunged the fishing pole into the dirt near him and sat down on the blanket laid near him, pulling out a book as he waited for a bite on his line.</p><p>Elizabeth sat down, admiring the view of the grounds. Darcy followed her lead, sitting closely to her. He smiled when she did not object to his closeness. The lake supplied a cool breeze against the warm summer sun. They were far enough away to not draw attention to themselves from the young Darcy, as he was now deeply engrossed in his book.</p><p>"It is beautiful here," Elizabeth said after a while, gazing over the lake. "I suppose I am seeing it through your rose-colored memories, though." she added, smiling.</p><p>"No. It truly is this beautiful. I wish you had the opportunity to visit," he said sadly.</p><p>"I can enjoy it now. How do you think we'll know if this is working?" she mused. Elizabeth curled herself up, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. The light summer breeze caused the loose curls framing her face to gently move. Darcy gazed at her for a long time before answering. He wanted to imprint this vision of her in his mind, to remember her here, on the grassy knolls of Pemberley, forever. When she turned to look at him for his response, he finally spoke.</p><p>"I do not know if we can be sure while I am still asleep. I guess I will know when I wake up," he said finally.</p><p>"You must come find me and tell me all about this. And you must tell Mr. Bingley about Jane's affection for him."</p><p>"You have my word."</p><p>In the distance, another young boy was approaching the lake. He had his own pole and was running rapidly through the grounds. Fitzwilliam looked up from his book as he heard him approach and waved.</p><p>"Who is that other little boy with you?"</p><p>"George Wickham," he said, sighing. "He's the son of my father's steward and my father's godson. We grew up together," Darcy grimaced. Elizabeth nodded. Darcy could not tell if she realized who he was, or if this Elizabeth had not met Wickham yet. He did not want to ask.</p><p>Fitzwilliam had abandoned his book on the ground as George reached into a bucket that was near him. They seemed to start bickering about the last of the worms they were using for bait.</p><p>"Why did you not bring your own, George?" Fitzwilliam asked. "There is not enough for you."</p><p>"I do not want to search for worms when you have plenty!" George grabbed a worm out of the bucket, and Fitzwilliam had snatched it back before George could successfully hook it into his line. "Mr. Darcy says you must share with me, Fitzwilliam." Fitzwilliam huffed in response and petulantly moved the bucket away from George.</p><p>George looked at him irritably, then suddenly reaching down to grab young Fitzwilliam's book. Before Fitzwilliam could stop him, George approached the side of the lake and dangled the book over the water. Fitzwilliam grasped at George, trying to snatch his book back while yelling for George to return it. Suddenly resigned, Fitzwilliam shoved George one final time as he stepped back. This caused George to trip backwards, letting go of the book as he used his hands to stop himself from falling into the lake. The force with which he let go of the book caused it to launch into the water. It landed, face up and open, with a forceful plop, much farther than either of them had anticipated.</p><p>"George!" Fitzwilliam yelled.</p><p>"I did not mean to do it!" George yelled back.</p><p>"But you did! That is Father's book! Go and get it!" Fitzwilliam replied.</p><p>George shook his head, "You are the one who shoved me!"</p><p>"Only because you took it to begin with! Why do you torment me so?"</p><p>"You are too easily annoyed, Fitz, it is easy to make sport out of you."</p><p>Nervously, Darcy watched the scene play out. When they had arrived, he was unsure of what memory this was exactly. He had spent many days in his childhood summers by the lake entertaining himself. His heart had tightened slightly as George appeared. Not because it was Wickham, but because he was beginning to understand which memory this was. He had locked it away in his mind for so long.</p><p>The boys watched as the book began to float farther and farther from them as they bickered. Seeing that reasoning would get him absolutely no where with George, and since ultimately the responsibility of the book rested on him, Fitzwilliam resolved to fix the situation himself.</p><p>"Fine." Fitzwilliam began to wade into the water, having to go deeper in than he had thought. He swam towards the middle of the lake, careful not to make too many waves. His hand grasped at the book, and he closed it in his hands as carefully as he could, raising it above his head as he swam back to the edge.</p><p>George watched with interest, and when Fitzwilliam reached the edge, he held out his hand to help him out. Fitzwilliam took it, then tried to shake out the excess water from the pages of the book.</p><p>"Is it ruined?" George asked, seeming slightly apologetic.</p><p>"Perhaps we can dry it—"</p><p>"Fitzwilliam!"</p><p>The boys, Elizabeth, and Darcy all startled at his name being yelled. Elizabeth and Darcy had been so engrossed by the scene at the lake, that they had not seen a man approaching. Darcy's breath almost stopped. Elizabeth looked from the boys, then Darcy, to the man, and realization dawned on her. It was the late Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth instinctively reached for Darcy, placing her hand gently on top of his in comfort. Darcy's face had paled.</p><p>"Father," the young Fitzwilliam had replied. He was glaring at George, and was still holding the wet book when his father reached them.</p><p>"Fitzwilliam—"</p><p>Thinking he was in trouble, Fitzwilliam burst into a rapid explanation—"George and I were playing, and the book accidentally fell in the water, and I volunteered to go fetch it—"</p><p>Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, her eyebrows raised. Darcy managed a shrug.</p><p>"I should not have brought it out here, I am sorry father. It is one of our favorites," Fitzwilliam ended. George said nothing but tried his best to look innocent. His father knelt to be eye level with Fitzwilliam before taking the book from his hand, setting it aside. He gripped his son's hands tightly.</p><p>"Fitzwilliam. Your mother…" the rest of his words were spoken so softly to his young son that Elizabeth and Darcy could not hear. Instead, they watched as the late Mr. Darcy took the soaked Fitzwilliam into his arms as the boy began to sob. Father and son remained there for a long time, and then Mr. Darcy opened one arm to bring George into their embrace. George had been starring, clearly upset but bravely holding back tears. Mr. Darcy now held both boys in his arms, kissing the top of Fitzwilliam's wet hair, speaking words of comfort only the children could hear.</p><p>Elizabeth's eyes were welling with tears in understanding of the news that was just delivered. She turned her head to look at her Darcy. "Mr. Darcy. I am so sorry," she said. Darcy remained starring straight ahead, and his own eyes were glistening with tears of the recollected sorrow.</p><p>"I did not realize you lost your mother at such a young age. That must have been so difficult for you. I am sorry. We should not have come here," she added quietly. Darcy felt the pressure of her hand on his increase, and he responded to her words by taking her hand tightly. She had leaned closer to him as they had observed the scene.</p><p>"No, Miss Elizabeth, it is okay.I did not mean to bring you somewhere distressful. It was the first thing that came to mind."</p><p>Darcy's heart was aching with an old sorrow. The death of his parents had impacted him greatly. Everything he had done since was for the sake of Georgiana and to honor his parent's legacy. He remembered what would happen next. He would visit the newborn Georgiana and commit to keeping her safe and loved, as his mother would have wanted.</p><p>"Do not worry about me, Mr. Darcy. I only wish I could provide you some words of comfort," Elizabeth replied. The late Mr. Darcy was now leading the boys towards Pemberley, his hand resting on Fitzwilliam's shoulder as the boy clung to the wet book with both hands. George trailed slightly behind them, his head bowed. As the trio moved further from them, they seem to fade away, and not just due to distance.</p><p>Darcy straightened up as the figures disappeared. Their surrounding remained unaltered. In fact, the sound of the trees rustling around them and the chattering of birds seemed all the louder with the absence of the boys. Still, he was vigilant that the end of this memory meant the end of their time together.</p><p>"Perhaps we should keep moving, Miss Elizabeth," he said finally, standing up and extending his hand to her. She took it and pulled herself up. Without him having to offer, she wrapped her arm around his.</p><p>"I think you are right. I will be sad to leave Pemberley," she said. Darcy smiled gently at her as they walked down the hill and began a stroll down the lake towards the house.</p><p>"We do not have to leave. I want us only to be vigilant. We do not know how much time left we have, and it helps me feel a little safer if we keep walking."</p><p>"I am very fond of walking," Elizabeth responded with a smile. Darcy smiled widely at this. His heart felt comforted simply by looking at her.</p><p>"Yes. Yes, I know," he replied.</p><p>They walked silently together along the lake. Darcy's sense of foreboding increased as they neared the house, but he tried to remain concentrated on Elizabeth. As long as she was here, he had nothing to fear.</p><p>"I am glad you have brought us here, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth finally broke their silence. "I still have not disappeared. Perhaps this is all working," she said encouragingly. "I am optimistic that everything will be fine, and tomorrow you will be able to encourage Mr. Bingley to return to Hertfordshire for Jane." Darcy nodded. He was committed to it, even though he was skeptical of the efficacy of their plan to hide Elizabeth in a distant memory.</p><p>"And what of us, Miss Elizabeth?" he ventured to ask. It was stupid, really. The <em>real</em> Elizabeth hated him. Even if he did remember her and all of this in the morning, how could he possibly convince her to accept his hand? His Elizabeth did not respond.</p><p>They had reached stone steps and walked up them slowly. Elizabeth let go of Darcy once she was at the top of the stairs, clasping her hands together in thought. Darcy walked slightly ahead of her, looking to see if anyone was around. He glanced up at the windows, thinking he saw a rustle of a curtain, but saw no one. Realizing that Elizabeth had stopped near the stairs, he turned around to look at her. They had maintained such a close proximity to each other in the past moments that he felt bereft by her distance.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy. If I spoke my mind when I rejected your proposal, perhaps you should listen to what I said, and look beyond the way I said it. I am stubborn, but I can see now that you improve upon acquaintance simply by understanding your disposition a little better. Perhaps affection can grow if all the misunderstanding are cleared up," Elizabeth replied, speaking carefully.</p><p>Darcy suddenly had an unsettlingly feeling of familiarity with the scene. He had thought frequently about Elizabeth living with him at Pemberley, but she had never <em>actually </em>visited. And this was the Pemberley was his childhood. The grounds had changed since then. No, he was unnerved because it felt like a memory in and of itself, though he was certain that was impossible.</p><p>"I will take your words into account, Miss Elizabeth," he finally replied. "I am determined. When morning comes, I am certain I will remember you, and I will do what I can to win your affection."</p><p>Elizabeth smiled. Darcy's heart swelled at the sight of her. He watched as something drew her attention upwards towards the house.</p><p>"What is it?" he asked, turning his head to follow her eyes. He saw young Fitzwilliam in the window, partially hidden behind a curtain, watching them curiously, his face pressed sadly against the glass.</p><p>Darcy's head began to hurt almost as soon as he registered his younger self looking at them. He touched his hand to his forehead to try to ease the pain.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said in concern, crossing the space between them to put one hand on his back and the other on his arm. "Mr. Darcy, are you all right?"</p><p>"We need to go," he said, as one hand rubbed his temple and the other reached for Elizabeth. He could still touch her, but it was too late. Everything was fading away around them. "We should not have come here," Darcy added, miserably.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy, think of something else then, with haste. Please," Elizabeth implored, her grip on his arm increasing. Darcy felt weak. His heart and his head ached as Pemberley disappeared around them, and he thought he would surely pass out or wake up.</p><p>In desperation, he wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, willing himself the strength to keep her close to him. This transition was worse than the ones before. It seemed prolonged, perhaps because it was such an old memory. The darkness caused his head to spin, and he was unable to collect himself long enough to think of anything but holding onto her. He heard a small gasp from Elizabeth before she was gone from his arms.</p><p>"Elizabeth!" he yelled, but it was no use. The scene changed. He was no longer outside.</p><p>Darcy was winded, dizzy from the sudden force of the change, his head still throbbing. He tried to bring his eyes and ears into focus. Colors and faces swam around him as the room began to take shape. He could hear the lively music, laughter, and to his slight relief, Elizabeth's voice, but distant and distorted.</p><p>The Meryton assembly. <em>No</em>.</p><p>Darcy looked around, desperately following the sound of Elizabeth's voice hoping it would bring him to her. As the world stopped spinning and the room came into focus, he realized he was in the corner of the room near the wall. He held onto it to steady himself with one hand, trying to feel less dizzy. Multiple thoughts came to mind all at once.</p><p>
  <em>This is it. The day we met. It is over. Where is she?</em>
</p><p>He was certain after this, he would wake up, and it would be finished. He would forget her entirely, as he had intended when he drank the contents in the vial. He could feel his heartache in the very pit of his stomach. What a fool he had been.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We are almost to the end of their time together! As a reminder, I am following the scenes from the 2005 film, so we may "skip" some moments from the book. I promise I'll answer some questions about whether Darcy followed instructions closely or not (yes, I left it purposefully ambiguous!) in the next chapter. I will also be honest: I did intend it to end after the Meryton Assembly, but now I'm thinking of making it much longer as I would like to see more of how Darcy (and Elizabeth) handle this challenge. We shall see. I love reading your reviews, so thank you for leaving them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A very important note! Thank you to the Guest reviewer who asked if Darcy had followed the apothecary instructions regarding informing his nearest acquaintances. I have gone back to chapter 1 and added a short paragraph of Darcy writing letters before drinking the potion. If you'd like to read it, you can head to the very end of Chapter 1. The content of the letters and the recipients are not revealed (although important!), so if you don't go back and read just know he wrote some letters (rather slowly). I appreciate all the reviews and kudos that come in! I have outlined the rest of the story, and I anticipate 7 more chapters. I love all reviews, and speculation and wishes are seriously considered.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>'Tis in my memory lock'd,<br/>And you yourself shall keep the key of it.</p><p><em>Hamlet</em> (1.3.85-86)</p><hr/><p>Darcy attempted to get his bearings on the scene. The assembly was crowded with people, but no one noticed Darcy's sudden appearance. The attendees were too distracted. He followed their gazes to the front of the room, where the Netherfield party had just arrive.</p><p>He saw himself, dressed dourly in all black, walking in, starring at the dancers who had stopped upon their arrival. Sir William Lucas was leading them in and happily identifying certain people. Darcy paused, startled at his own haughty expression. He remembered he had been made miserable that day from traveling, Miss Bingley's aggravating and incessant attention, the fact that he was on display for every woman in the room hoping to ensnare a husband, and yes, he had thought himself better than the simple countryfolk. The people in the ballroom saw his arrogant demeanor, the fact that he refused to dance with anyone, and his unwillingness to engage in even polite conversation as a complete portrait of his character. Darcy winced as he saw himself as they had seen him. They were not wrong about who he was.</p><p>He had been raised to conduct himself in a way that would ensure the longevity and success of the Darcy house. The wealth, land, and Darcy name would mean nothing if his conduct was not above reproach. Or so Darcy had convinced himself. Even his friendship with Bingley was pushing the bounds of his social sphere, as the Bingley wealth had only been comparatively recently made in trade. But Bingley had endeared himself to Darcy during their time at university, and he hoped to assist Bingley in getting settled in society. He had brought every one of the prejudices against the lower social classes with him at this assembly. Whether it was wrong or right, Darcy was still unsure, but it certainly explained why Elizabeth had found him so unlikeable.</p><p>He watched as he, Bingley, and Caroline walked through the middle of the room, and how he had taken a second glance at Elizabeth. Her eyes caused him to do a double take, but he had been determined to maintain a neutral and unflustered countenance.</p><p>"You certainly appear miserable, Mr. Darcy."</p><p>Not expecting to be addressed, he jumped and looked to his side. Elizabeth stood next to him, in her lovely green dress that complimented her complexion just so, looking at him with a twinkle in her eye.</p><p>"I thought I had lost you," he said, relieved to see her.</p><p>"No, I arrived here just as you did." He was comforted his companion was the same from the last memory. This Elizabeth carried none of the icy demeanor and derision she would latter have towards him in Kent. And at least he would not need to explain everything to her again. Elizabeth continued in reflection, "This was a thoroughly entertaining evening, even if I do end the night with my vanity thoroughly wounded."</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth," he wanted to apologize for everything that had happened since this evening, but he was unable to find the words. Everything was moving too quickly. The music had resumed too fast, the dancers too lively. He looked from her, back to the dance floor where he could see the Elizabeth of his memory dancing. She was laughing gaily, completely uninhibited, and thoroughly enjoying herself. It was a delightful sight, and he was drawn to her again as he had been then.</p><p>He then saw Elizabeth sit the next dance out due to the lack of available gentlemen. She was polite in her attempt to make conversation with him, and his cold demeanor towards her pained him now. After she left, Bingley was talking to him exuberantly.</p><p>"<em>I have never seen so many pretty girls in my life!"</em></p><p>He could not hear the rest of the conversation over the crowd, but he knew he was calling Elizabeth tolerable. He frowned at himself, both for being rendered too obtuse by his arrogance to even attempt to notice Elizabeth's beauty, but also for being rude enough to speak the thought loud enough for people to hear.</p><p>"I am over there with Charlotte," the Elizabeth at his side said, pointing herself out. She found this memory very amusing. "That is how I heard everything you said. You should never have expected sufficient privacy for insulting people at a ball." Darcy could see Elizabeth and Charlotte laughing at his expense. He frowned, instinctively ruffling at being the target of some unknown joke, but he softened when Elizabeth touched his arm gently.</p><p>"I was telling Charlotte I would not dance with you for all of Derbyshire," she explained. This did not comfort Darcy in the least. Seeing his expression, Elizabeth smiled kindly.</p><p>"Can you fault me with that first impression you made? Let us share in the blame of our delayed friendship, as our conduct did neither of us credit."</p><p>"That is an agreeable compromise, Miss Elizabeth," he said this sincerely and decided not to think too much on her choice of the word <em>friendship</em>. It pained him that even in this distorted memory that she seemed unable to imagine them as something more. And yes, he thought, more is what he wanted, still. He had let his anger and pain get the better of him, and he should have never gone to the apothecary. If only he had not acted so rashly. His gaze returned to the current scene, unwilling to further ponder the inevitability of what waited him in the morning.</p><p>He saw the group come together after another dance. Mrs. Bennet was speaking to them while a horrified Jane and Elizabeth tried to steer the conversation towards more appropriate topics. Jane looked as if she wanted to disappear on the spot, and Elizabeth was momentarily speechless as her mother embarrassed them with her story about Jane. Elizabeth finally managed to cut in with her statement on poetry. Her wit and intelligence were evident even then, and he had been drawn to engage her in conversation.</p><p>Darcy could not help but smile, as he knew what was coming.</p><p>"<em>Then what do you recommend, to encourage affection?"</em></p><p>"<em>Dancing. Even if one's partner is barely tolerable…"</em></p><p>His Elizabeth, the one next to him watching the scene, laughed. "The look on your face was worth my impertinence," she said.</p><p>"It was a fully warranted set down," Darcy replied, smiling. It had embarrassed him at the time, but he found humor in it now.</p><p>In front of him, the evening progressed, consisting of mostly him avoiding dancing and encouraging Caroline's attentions, and he saw his other self attempt to get Bingley to leave, but Bingley insisted on staying until the dance was over. It would endear him to the neighborhood. Right now, he felt great appreciation for Bingley's commitment to making a good first impression, because he knew as soon as the Netherfield party walked out the door, the memory would be over.</p><p>This thought distressed him. Darcy turned to face his Elizabeth and took her hand, "I've returned to this night almost as much as any other memory. Your eyes bewitched me the moment I saw you. I simply did not want to admit it."</p><p>Elizabeth beamed at him, flattered by his compliment. He smiled softly at her, but his eyes were filled with sadness.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy?"</p><p>"I wish I had danced with you at every opportunity presented. I wish I had concerned myself with treating you and everyone with respect. Everything else would have been less difficult if I had endeavored to improve my manners sooner. If I had listened to my heart instead of my pride. If I had made a real effort."</p><p>"What if we did it differently then, this time? Let us go about this properly," Elizabeth suggested with a smile on her lips, pulling him away from their dark corner and towards the dance line without waiting for his response. The Darcy and Elizabeth of his memory were nowhere to be seen.</p><p>Darcy was torn between attempting to leave or enjoying her company for their remaining time together. He felt unable to concentrate enough to even attempt a memory switch, and the idea of dancing with her was so tempting.</p><p>"It is the last dance, come, Mr. Darcy," she said and placed him in the line opposite her. Her eagerness, the energy of the room, and the lively music encouraged Darcy to follow her lead. He bowed and felt himself impulsively stiffen at the thought of participating in such an animated dance in a room full of strangers, but when he raised his head and saw Elizabeth glowing with enthusiasm as she curtseyed, he relaxed.</p><p>They began moving in step with one another, and luckily this particular dance kept them paired more often than not; even when he had to spin with another dancer, it was not long before Elizabeth was at his side again. He gripped her hand much firmer than was appropriate and smiled broadly when he led her down the line, bouncing with every step. Her good humor was infectious, and Darcy even managed to quell his nervousness long enough to clap along to the rhythm when he was standing still, much to the amusement of Elizabeth. Perhaps it was a side effect of having spent all this time within his memories with her, but he was growing more at ease with himself in her presence. He tried, likely in vain, to commit the way he felt dancing with her to memory.</p><p>Much to his dismay, the song ended, and the couples began to leave the dance floor in search of their families and friends as they bid each other farewell for the evening. Two of Elizabeth's younger sisters seemed particularly upset that the night was coming to an end.</p><p>He found Elizabeth's hand as she spoke, "What an invigorating dance! See, Mr. Darcy, it is a delightful way to spend the evening, and I stand by my opinion." Darcy looked at her, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.</p><p>"And what opinion is that, Miss Elizabeth?"</p><p>"That dancing is the best way to encourage affection," she replied. Darcy smiled. As if to provide further evidence of her hypothesis, Elizabeth drew Darcy's attention to Bingley bidding Jane goodnight. Bingley had danced as many dances as would be appropriate with Jane. Bingley was clearly reluctant to leave, and Jane was demure but clearly pleased with him. Darcy frowned, thinking of his own intervention in the matter. His arrogance had hurt so many people.</p><p>"I have not yet forgiven you for interfering with Jane's happiness, but I wish Bingley had not been so easily dissuaded from her. I do hope they find a way back to each other," Elizabeth said, looking sadly at her sister and Bingley.</p><p>"As do I," Darcy replied, looking directly at Elizabeth. "I will make everything right again, Miss Elizabeth. I must."</p><p>The clamor of the crowd was beginning to hush, and the memory began to take on a dreamlike hue. Elizabeth turned her head in concern when the people surrounding them blurred as if brushstrokes of a painting. Only she and Darcy remained in focus in the middle of the assembly.</p><p>"Is this the end?" she asked. Elizabeth turned to face him directly, her brown eyes searching his face for confirmation of the answer she already knew.</p><p>"There are no memories left, Miss Elizabeth," he answered tenderly, his heart aching as he realized the truth of his words. He brought both her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. Not only did she allow him this liberty, she even stepped closer and leaned her head towards him, and he responded in kind, their foreheads touching.</p><p>"Then let us have a proper goodbye. We can pretend we had one," Elizabeth whispered, "Goodbye, Mr. Darcy."</p><p>"Goodbye, dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth. I love you. Most ardently," he gazed intently at her, and she held his gaze for a moment, then closed her eyes. His eyes scanned her radiant face, fruitlessly memorizing every inch of it. He did not want this to end; he wanted to feel the intensity of his love for her for as long as he could.</p><p>"Remember me," her voice was distant. One of her hands escaped his grasp and firmly touched where his heart was, "Remember me. Meet me at—"</p><p>Darcy held her hands as tightly as he could. Elizabeth's voice faded away before she could finish. Then, she was gone.</p><p>He felt a hollowness inside himself like never before as a golden light filled the space around him. He saw flickers of a face with a teasing smile, a woman standing stunned and soaked in the rain, the same woman with her dark hair flowing in the wind, walking through a golden field with one hand absentmindedly grazing tall golden grass. The woman looked towards him with bright brown eyes, her face neutral as if seeing beyond him. She turned away. He wanted to call for her, but he did not know her name. The golden light intensified, and its brilliance forced his eyes to close.</p><p>~~</p><p>Fitzwilliam Darcy was sleeping in his bed at the Darcy House in London. His eyes fluttered opened.</p><hr/><p><strong>Author's Note</strong>: A cliffhanger! Forgive me! Next chapter will be up July 3. Stay safe!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Darcy wakes and feels like he's just head a night of heavy drinking. He heads home to Pemberley...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the comments! I enjoy reading all the speculation. I appreciate your patience in my updates. Without giving too much away for this chapter, I am following the simplified narrative turns of the film, meaning we will not see the Bingleys or Hursts at Pemberley. I didn’t forget them (ha!); I just omitted them. I hope you can still enjoy this chapter. Also, I am not striving for historical accuracy, but I am fairly certain it would take multiple days to reach Derbyshire from London by carriage, so I had it take two. Probably still too fast, but I appreciate your understanding. <br/>I also wanted to share some music: I’ve been listening to a Spotify playlist called “elizabeth and darcy.” I often write while listening to it. I did not make the playlist, but I do encourage you to search for it if you want some music to read to! Please comment! Have a safe and healthy socially distanced weekend!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fitzwilliam Darcy was sleeping in his bed at the Darcy House in London. His eyes fluttered opened.</p><p>“—Oakham Mount.” Darcy whispered to himself as he came into consciousness. His own voice startled him further awake. <em>Oakham Mount</em>. He woke with that name on his lips, but he did not know its origins. He must have been dreaming, and it was not uncommon for him to not recall the contents of his dreams.</p><p>Groaning, Darcy turned over in his bed as he began to wake up. His head throbbed painfully, and he reached up to rub his temples in a vain attempt to soothe the ache. He wondered if he had drunk all the liquor in the house last night. Surely, he must have.</p><p>His nightshirt was damp with sweat. He vaguely recollected tossing and turning at night. Darcy turned over, yawning, and wiping the sleep from his eyes. He was tempted to try to go back to sleep so that he would not have to withstand the incessant pounding in his head, but he realized it was a futile effort. He had awoken with the desire to return to Pemberley. And to drink a strong cup of tea, or even better, coffee. Leaning over his bed, he reached for the chord near it to call his valet, ignoring the early morning hour.</p><p>~</p><p>His steaming bath and getting dressed had eased his headache, but a soft pulsing remained. After he finished buttoning his vest, he made up his mind.</p><p>“Holmes, I would like to start my return to Pemberley today. I have been gone much too long, and I would dearly love to see Georgiana again,” Darcy explained. His valet looked a little surprised. Darcy had not expressed a particular interest or preferance in anything for the last few weeks.</p><p>“When we last spoke, you had not planned to return for at least a fortnight, Sir,” he said by way of questioning the sudden change.</p><p>“Oh? Well, I have changed my mind. I trust it will not be difficult to make the necessary arrangements over the course of the morning. Send a rider ahead now to make lodging arrangements along the road, and I shall make it there by tomorrow,” Darcy replied as he considered and then reached for one of the lighter coats his man held out as an option.</p><p>“Consider it done, Sir. I will see that your carriage is ready to leave at your convenience” Here, Holmes observed Darcy carefully. For one, Mr. Darcy had not put much thought into his appearance recently. He also was not particularly prone to changing his plans and seemed far less morose than he had as of late. Whatever the cause of this change, Holmes decided it was welcome.</p><p>Darcy nodded and dismissed him. As Darcy turned to head downstairs, his head gave a particularly painful throb. Darcy’s hand immediately went up to his head to try to comfort himself, and in his speed, his elbow bumped the dresser next to him. Darcy cursed as he saw a small vial on the dresser top tip over, spilling a tiny amount of liquid out of it.</p><p>Now rubbing his elbow, Darcy looked curiously at the dresser. He did not recognize the vial, and the amount that spilt was only a few drops, so he set the vial up right and wiped the dresser with his pocket handkerchief. It hardly made it damp. Perhaps it was something his valet used to prepare his bath or shave? It did not really explain what it was doing here, but Darcy was not overly concerned about it. He turned now to finally head down to breakfast when out of the corner of his eyes he saw a stack of letters on his writing desk.</p><p>The top one was to Georgiana. Smiling, he stopped at the desk and tucked that one into the inner pocket of his jacket. He could hand deliver it now, which he was sure would amuse Georgiana. The next letter was for Bingley. Darcy’s eyebrow furrowed. He must written last night, but he had no recollection of doing so. Perhaps he had indulged <em>too</em> much in drink. With a shameful shrug to himself, he grabbed the stack without looking at the letters beneath Bingley’s. As he made his way to the parlor in which he usually took breakfast, he passed a footman by the door.</p><p>“Please send these off,” Darcy said, handing the stack over. He then strolled down the hall, feeling very famished. If not for this lingering headache, Darcy would say he felt well. He felt more energy than he had in a long time. The previous months felt like a blur to him, but he had the distinct impression that he had <em>not</em> been himself.  Something did nag in the back of his mind, though. He attributed the length of time he had been away from Pemberley as unsettling him. The country air would be refreshing, and his sister would provide some solace to the loneliness that was threatening to sink in.</p><p>It was not long before Darcy finished breaking his fast and was dressed in his travel outwear befitting a gentleman of his standing. His carriage was ready for his trip to Pemberley. He headed down the steps of Darcy House onto the street without glancing at his surroundings. He was mid-step into the carriage when a man appeared beside him.</p><p>“Sir, if I may, a word with you,” the man said. Darcy’s eyes narrowed at the man, as he did not recognize him. The man was older, simply dressed, and the large bags under his eyes indicated he had not slept the night before. Darcy was not inclined to speak to a total stranger who so rudely accosted him. When Darcy made no motion to acknowledge the man, he stepped closer to the carriage, impeding Darcy’s progress in. This caused Darcy’s footman to step between them, pushing the agitated man from Darcy.</p><p>“Sir, please. I need to speak to you about a private matter concerning yourself. You must listen to me,” the man said, attempting to push the footman away from him. The man grew more panicked as Darcy seemed confounded at his presence. Darcy was certain this man was unwell, and while a part of him wanted nothing more than to climb into his carriage and drive away without further thought of a mad man in the street, the more generous part of him thought he should hear what the man had to say.</p><p>“Granger, let him go. What is it?” Darcy asked, standing on the sidewalk. His footman let the man go, and the man straightened his disheveled coat while glaring at the footman. Darcy motioned for Granger to step back farther to grant them the privacy the man had wanted. When the man hesitated, Darcy’s temper began to flair.</p><p>“I am in a hurry to leave, and I have no time for strangers at my doorstep. Out with it,” Darcy said, his ire growing. The man shook his head sadly at the word ‘stranger.’</p><p>“I am no stranger, sir. I am an apothecary who you visited yesterday. I was denied an audience with you when I followed you home, and I have been waiting for you to come out so that I may deliver a message of utmost importance—”</p><p>“You have me mistaken for someone else. I have seen no apothecary,” Darcy said and turned his body to enter the carriage again. The apothecary stepped forward to block Darcy’s path once more.</p><p>“Then you have taken the most extreme path. You do not remember because you came to me in search of something to cure you of a heart break. A drink that would alter your memory to forget <em>someone</em>,” the apothecary hissed, half-whispering to avoid being overheard too clearly by Darcy’s servants. Darcy stared blankly at him. When Darcy said nothing, the apothecary continued.</p><p>“It is worse than I feared if you cannot remember me. I came to stop you, but it is too late. I regret making the mixture, and I shall never again aid anyone in such an unnatural course of action. I am visiting any of those whose residencies I know, but I had to begin with you, sir, as I thought I could stop you. You came to me in search of something that would make you forget someone you loved—”</p><p>“You speak nonsense. I demand you remove yourself from my sight at once,” Darcy said as he finally found his words, this time stepping forward to move the apothecary from the carriage. The apothecary, fearing for his own safety, stepped aside, but spoke rapidly.</p><p>“Sir, was there anything unexplained in your chambers? A small vial perhaps? Was there anything in its contents this morning? If there was, you may still have a chance---”</p><p>Darcy thought of the mysterious vial in his room, and for a moment he looked directly at the apothecary in concern, but then shook his head. “Granger, get him out of here,” Darcy ordered, and his footman immediately came from behind the carriage and began pulling the apothecary away. Darcy had no patience of nonsense. He climbed into his carriage and shut the door firmly himself. He could hear the muffled voice of the apothecary.</p><p>“You forgot someone dear to you.  You did not tell me her name, but sir, it is the truth and you may regret—”</p><p>Aggravated, and still battling a headache that grew worse during his conversation with the apothecary, Darcy hit the ceiling of his carriage with his cane forcefully causing it to spring into motion. He was unsettled. Nervously fingering his cane with his hands, he contemplated the apothecary’s words. How had he known about the vial in his room? Had it been a lucky guess? Darcy cursed himself for not having inspected the bottle in the room more closely. But other than the vial, everything else he had spoken could not be true. Darcy had never been in love. Of this, he was certain.</p><p><em>How certain? </em>He thought to himself. It was beyond comprehension that such a thing could happen. Darcy was nothing if not resolute in his opinions once formed, and in the first leg of his journey, he managed to convince himself of not only the impossibility of the situation, but the absurdity of his being in love, and it leading to what the apothecary claimed.  No, it was ridiculous.</p><p>
  <em>Oakham Mount.</em>
</p><p>This name came to mind, as if it were the notes of a forgotten melody, just as he was determined to forget this strange occurance entirely. The unfamiliar name provided Darcy unexpected comfort. He felt soothed by the name, even when he could not quite place where he had heard the name or seen the location it referred to. With a jolt, Darcy’s carriage came to a stop. He would rest for the night at an inn a little over halfway to Pemberley.~</p><p>Darcy was accustomed to the sometimes arduous journey from London to Derbyshire by carriage, but it was still a relief when he finally set sight on his beloved Pemberley. This was his sanctuary. Being master to a grand estate gave him a sense of purpose. He relished the charge of maintaining a well-run estate, a season of good harvest, a bountiful year for his tenants. It was the most natural thing in the world for Darcy to take care of others. Darcy sometimes mused on whether this was an innate characteristic of Darcy men, for his father had also been generous and protective of all those under his care, or whether he had learned this quickly after the death of his mother in his childhood and then his father only five years ago. Protecting the Darcy legacy, and Georgiana, had become a central part of his life. He had nearly failed Georgiana last summer, and he had vowed then to do everything in his power to improve his protection of her.</p><p>As Darcy’s carriage rounded a turn, the lake at the entrance of Pemberley and the house itself came into view. His heart clenched, and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He must have missed the country during his time in London more than he realized, for he usually did not have such a strong physical reaction to the grounds. In particular, his eyes gravitated to a grassy knoll near the lake. The dazzling summer sun illuminated the lushness of the grounds, and the view was particularly spectacular this day.  Inexplicably, and but for a moment, the apothecary’s words came to his mind, but he shooed the thought away. Soon, his carriage came to a stop at the entrance and a footman was opening his door.</p><p>With renewed energy, Darcy ascended the steps two at a time. It was strange Mrs. Reynolds was not there to greet him as she usually did, but he was arriving unexpectedly. He was relieved of his travel outerwear by a nearby servant, and then he headed towards Georgiana’s favored parlor, where he hoped to find her. As he passed the public rooms, he heard Mrs. Reynold’s voice ringing from inside. </p><p>“I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old!”</p><p>Darcy smiled and paused at the gallery door. One could forgive the sin of eavesdropping on one’s own employees, especially when the praise was high indeed. Lucky for Darcy, the door was slightly ajar. He peaked through the door. He heard faint responses from three unfamiliar voices, but their backs were to him as they observed the miniatures and portraits.  Pemberley, like many large estates of its kind, was open to visitors. Darcy rarely made his presence known to sightseers, and this time would be no different. He could only guess from their forms and voices that it was an older couple and a young woman. The woman had paused to observe a large portrait of him as the others continued walking, heading through doors on the opposite entrance from Darcy’s location.</p><p>Mrs. Reynolds responded to a statement Darcy could not hear as she walked, “…some people call him proud, but I am sure I never saw anything of it…”.</p><p>At this, the young woman that was there turned her head quickly towards Mrs. Reynolds. The rim of her golden bonnet worked in conjunction with a cascade of brown curls to obscure her face. Darcy observed as her head turned from Mrs. Reynolds back to his portrait. Mrs. Reynolds and the other guests were nearly through the doors to the next room, yet the woman lingered, her head tilting.</p><p>Darcy was mesmerized. Why he felt compel to watch this young woman from the ungentlemanly position of spying on her through the doors of his own home, he was not sure. He briefly contemplated entering the room. </p><p>“Come along, Lizzy,” the other woman called, causing both the girl and Darcy to startle. Darcy watched as the girl, Lizzy, lingered for a fraction of a moment more before following the couple and Mrs. Reynolds through the opposite doors. The party was still completely unaware of his presence.  Her movement broke the spell on Darcy, and he shook his head to clear his mind. He had not realized he was hardly breathing. With that, Darcy proceeded down the hall towards the parlor he had been intending to go, lost in momentary contemplation. The sound of Georgiana’s pianoforte brought him back to the present.</p><p>“Fitzwilliam!” Georgiana cried happily as she heard him enter the parlor. She stood from her new pianoforte but hesitated. Darcy was confused by her reticence, and so he opened his arms wide. Georgiana’s face broke into a smile and she ran towards her brother. He swooped her up into his arms and spun her, causing her to shriek in delight.</p><p>“Dearest Georgiana!” Darcy said, putting her down and holding her by the shoulders with his arms extended, as if he was seeing her for the first time in a long time.</p><p>“My dear brother, I thought you were not returning for some time. You seem well,” Georgiana said happily, eyeing her brother with surprise at his affection and enthusiasm.  </p><p>“And why should I not be when I am home again?” he smiled brightly at her, and then remembered he had something for her.</p><p>“You are right though, I did decide to return rather spontaneously. In fact, I had written to you just before deciding to come home. I did not plan to deliver this in person, but I thought you might find it humorous for me to play the part of a postman,” Darcy reached into his pocket and handed Georgiana the letter addressed to her. Georgiana took it with a laugh.</p><p>“Fitzwilliam, you have saved postage. Very thoughtful of you. I would like to seize the opportunity of your good humor and enjoy your company in person rather than your words on paper, though. I will save this for later,” she said and placed the letter on a small table near her pianoforte. “I shall call for tea, and you can tell me about your time in London. I am so pleased to see that it has raised your spirits.” Darcy furrowed his brows in confusion but decided to question Georgiana on her comment after tea. They moved to the large and most comfortable couch near a window. This parlor overlooked the western view of the estate, and Darcy, who could hardly pass a window without gazing out of it, saw that the visitors were leaving.</p><p>He moved closer to the window to try to get a better view of the woman he had seen earlier. She was there on the stone terrace, walking slowly and behind her two companions. Just as she was at the stone steps that would lead her away from his sight, she stopped. Darcy held his breath. As if sensing his gaze, she turned and looked up towards the window.</p><p>Darcy could see her clearly now. Her brown hair matched her dark eyes, and her round face was made pleasant by her slightly flushed cheeks. Darcy desired for her to look directly at him, but she was looking beyond him, admiring the general splendor of the house. It occurred to Darcy that the glare of the sun was obscuring him from her view.</p><p>This <em>felt</em> familiar. But he was certain he had never seen her before. They had called her Lizzy. A feeling of melancholy began washing over him, and he pressed his forehead close to the glass. No sooner had he done so that the girl turned and began walking quickly down the stairs, disappearing from his view.</p><p>“Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana asked softly. She had observed his change in demeanor as he looked out the window, but she had learned in the past months to give him some space when he became melancholy. “What is it?” </p><p>“Nothing, dear,” Darcy replied, straightening himself up. He lingered at the window. “Please, do call for some tea,” he said finally, turning to her with the attempt at a small smile on his face. The moment had passed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooookay so we will be seeing more of Elizabeth soon. I will try not to drag it out for your sakes too much! Next update coming next weekend. Please leave a comment! I so appreciate every minute you spend with my story- it's a gift!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm excited to share this chapter with you! To be honest, I am anxious to share more D/E interactions, but the story must develop to that point first. I hope the glimpses of Darcy's early regard for Elizabeth will tide you over until then. I also enjoyed writing Georgiana, so I think this may not be the last we see of her! Thank you for your reviews; they brighten my day, and I love reading every one! I also made a language correction suggested by a Guest reviewer on FFN who has since deleted their review. I appreciate all feedback, and even though I am not striving to be one hundred percent Regency compliant, I do my best to not pull you out of the story too much. I will see this story to the end, so all the love is very much appreciated and returned.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Georgiana was exceedingly pleased by her dear brother's improved spirits since his return from London. After his visit to Rosings, he had been in a melancholy mood. She never heard a cross word from him, and he was always kind and obliging to her, but during the previous weeks before he left for London, he preferred his solitude in his study or library. It was a stark change from their usual summers spent in each other's company. Well, that is, until the previous summer, when George Wickham had attempted to convince her to elope with him. Georgiana had spent some time wondering if <em>that</em> was the reason her brother was so troubled. Fitzwilliam had said and done everything possible to assure her of his continued support and affection after Ramsgate, but Georgiana was still wracked with guilt at her own naiveté. She would never have gone through with it without her brother's consent, but she still felt foolish for how close she had been.</p><p>When Fitzwilliam had left for London and a new pianoforte arrived in his place, Georgiana had spent many days puzzling over Fitzwilliam and his strange mood. She much preferred Fitzwilliam's company to a pianoforte, and it plainly annoyed her that Fitzwilliam wanted to smooth over his absence by distracting her with a gift. These were her initial uncharitable thoughts. But her love for her brother, and her understanding of his intrinsically kind and generous nature, helped her realize that something must have been bothering him so greatly that he wanted time to process it on his own, in London without her, and the pianoforte was all he could offer as a trade. After Ramsgate, she herself had felt the need to be alone enough to understand Fitzwilliam's decisions.</p><p>Georgiana thought all this as she readied herself to retire to bed. Fitzwilliam's absence she could forgive now that he was back, and his improved mood this first evening of his return made her happy. They had spoken freely and jovially with each other during dinner, and he was thrilled with the new piece she had learned in his absence. Georgiana only retired to her chambers because she had been up early visiting tenants; otherwise, she may have stayed to enjoy his company more. Her maid had helped her dress for bed, but Georgiana insisted on brushing her own long, blond hair. Like music, the rhythm of counting out the brushstrokes soothed her. Georgiana knew she was more anxious than other girls her age, her mind racing from one thought to the next when she should be getting ready to sleep, and brushing her own hair helped settle her mind. At her vanity sat the letter Fitzwilliam had brought to her from London.</p><p>Georgiana smiled. She treasured her letters from him, and since they were often apart as he took care of business in London or traveled with friends, she kept his letters to refer back to when she missed him. Georgiana was lonely. Her companion, Mrs. Annesley, was kind towards her, but Georgiana was unable to form a close bond with her after the betrayal of Ms. Younge last summer. In fact, Georgiana was now more and more convinced that Fitzwilliam and her cousin Richard were the only people she could truly depend on. How she longed for more family and close friends.</p><p>Fitzwilliam was right. It did humor her that he would hand deliver a letter from him to her. She did not anticipate his unannounced return, and it was a delight to think of her brother, usually so reserved and organized, making such a last minute decision to return home. She opened the carefully folded letter. It was dated only a couple days ago, before the start of his return trip.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest Georgiana,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to you regarding a matter of utmost importance. I have written and spoken to you often about a Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire.</em>
</p><p>Georgiana nodded and smiled. He did frequently write about a Miss Elizabeth Bennet while he was visiting Hertfordshire, and he had been near raptures when he discovered her presence at Rosings in April, but when he returned, his sullen mood prevented Georgiana from inquiring at length about his visit. Only once had she asked about the company at Rosings and hinted that she thought his extended stay this year may have had something to do with Miss Elizabeth. His stiffening demeanor and quickness in changing the subject showed Georgiana she had overstepped, and she never asked him about his time visiting Rosings again.</p><p>Georgiana's young, still romantic heart, leapt at the mention of a matter of importance. This Miss Elizabeth was the only woman outside the family whom Fitzwilliam had written about at length. Even when his letters mentioned Mr. Bingley's sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, he would never write at length about her the way he had with Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana had spent some time wishing dearly that her brother would bring her home a sister, and Miss Elizabeth was the most likely candidate. She continued reading.</p><p>
  <em>While I have neither the heart nor the words to adequately account for myself, I beg you to honor my following request. Please be so kind as to not speak of Miss Elizabeth Bennet to me or in my presence from this moment on. Under no circumstances. I wish not to be reminded of her, and I fear that my reaction may be one of anger or confusion, causing you a severe amount of stress, and I would prefer to avoid this for both of our sake. My future felicity depends on it. I will be with you soon, dear sister.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Affectionately,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fitzwilliam</em>
</p><p>Georgiana reread the short missive several times, even turning it over to make sure she did not miss further explanations on the back page. Fitzwilliam had not mentioned the contents of the letter or even hinted to the distress therein that evening, but the tenor of the message was certainly troubling to Georgiana. It was a peculiar request. For one, she was unlikely to bring up Miss Elizabeth unless he did, which he frequently had in previous letters to her. For another, she did not understand the change of feeling towards Miss Elizabeth.</p><p>Georgiana's candles were growing dim as she contemplated the letter. A part of her longed to find Fitzwilliam and ask him what this was really about, and to find out the details of what had transpired between him and Miss Elizabeth. But Georgiana prided herself in being a dutiful and devoted sister. Fitzwilliam had shown such grace to her last summer, could she not grant him the same understanding now? He rarely asked anything of her, and here he was, making a simple request.</p><p>Georgiana's eyebrows furrowed, not unlike the way Darcy's did when he was in concerned thought. She moved to the writing desk in her sitting room where she kept a chest. Inside was all her correspondence over the years with her brother, carefully wrapped in stacks and tied with delicate ribbons. She did not have to rummage far to reach his letters from the past autumn when he visited Hertfordshire. Georgiana unfolded several of the letters to skim the contents.</p><p>
  <em>Charles is delighted with the countryside and has made several acquaintances amongst his neighbors, though I find the society mostly lacking. There is one family we see frequently. It is a family of five daughters. The eldest Miss Bennet is currently staying at Netherfield. She came down with a dreadful cold while dining here. Do not worry, sister, for the rest of the party remains in good health, and Miss Bennet is being well taken care of. One of her sisters, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, has come to keep her company. Their estate is three miles from Netherfield, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet walked the distance, a day after rain, to come tend to her. The consideration and affection for her sister does her great credit. While I would never want you to walk the muddy countryside in such a manner, I do wish you had a devoted and caring sister like Miss Elizabeth.</em>
</p><p>Then, in another letter:</p><p>
  <em>Netherfield remains much the same. I do long to see you and return to Pemberley. We have not surveyed the grounds much this week since Charles prefers to remain near in case Miss Bennet needs assistance. This has allowed many opportunities to converse with Miss Elizabeth. She is never at a loss for something insightful or interesting to say. Once Miss Bennet is better, Charles intends to host a ball. You know my opinions on dancing and balls, but I find myself looking forward to the event.</em>
</p><p>Georgiana skimmed her remaining letters. He had written a short missive after the ball to inform her the party would be returning to London and to send her correspondence there. </p><p>There was no mention of Miss Elizabeth during the winter until a letter sent from Rosings. Amongst reassurance that their cousin Anne was in as good of health as could be expected and that he had assured Aunt Catherine of Georgiana's dutiful practice of the piano, there was plenty about Miss Elizabeth.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest Georgiana, I must inform you that a pleasant surprise awaited Richard and I. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is visiting her cousin, Mr. Collins, and his new bride, Mrs. Charlotte Collins, who is a friend of Miss Elizabeth's from Hertfordshire. Mrs. Collins and Miss Elizabeth make for livelier company than what Richard and I are used to on our annual visits, and we encourage Aunt Catherine to invite them frequently for dinner. I wish you had accompanied us on this trip, as I greatly desire you to make Miss Elizabeth's acquaintance. She delighted us on the pianoforte and played quite well, despite her humble protests that she played poorly. I found nothing lacking in her playing, and I made sure to share that with her. I hope that in the near future you will be able to enjoy her playing as much as I did.</em>
</p><p>Georgiana had convinced herself after this letter that Fitzwilliam would return to Pemberley with Miss Elizabeth as his wife. But that was not to be the case. She could only make conjectures as to the cause of Fitzwilliam's change of feelings towards Miss Elizabeth. With a small smile, Georgiana conceded that the Darcys felt their emotions strongly and stubbornly. Much like the mere thought of George Wickham could send a mix of shame, disappointment, and a touch of anger through her, she understood Fitzwilliam must have his reasons for not speaking of Miss Elizabeth again. Still, she could hardly imagine why Miss Elizabeth would not return her brother's affections, unless her attentions were engaged elsewhere.</p><p>Georgiana would indeed honor his request. It was the very least she could do for a brother who had done so much for her. She folded up all the letters, including the one she had received today, and placed them gently in her chest before going back to her chamber to sleep.</p><p>~-~</p><p>Darcy's late evening had been spent in similar curious contemplation as his sister's. After she retired for the evening, Darcy retreated to his study. He was enjoying a glass of brandy, contemplating the peculiar happenings over the recent days. The words of the apothecary had not left his mind, and he was more troubled about it than he was originally willing to admit. And then the curious young woman who had visited Pemberley. Undoubtably, he was drawn to her. When he had seen her face from the window, he had felt something. He decided her face was plainer than usually caught his attention, so his reaction was not entirely physical. Why was he still thinking about a common tourist to Pemberley?</p><p>Darcy had heard her companion call her Lizzy. Certainly short for Elizabeth.</p><p>"Elizabeth," Darcy said to himself. Feeling warm, he loosened his cravat and took another sip of his brandy. He could not shake the impression that this girl, the apothecary, and Oakham Mount were related.</p><p>As a child, Darcy had displayed a keen interest in maps. When his father returned from a trip, he would bring back a map of the area he had visited for young Fitzwilliam to peruse repeatedly. Over the years, his father's business would take him to the same regions, and he would bring back updated maps. Darcy enjoyed comparing the changes to an area between the years. Sometimes change was slow and steady, and other times regions would change from one year to the next, a mark of rapid progress and growth. And then there would be constancy of certain roads or landmarks, unchanged from their surroundings. This complimentary relationship between progress and persistence had always fascinated Darcy.</p><p>With these thoughts, he walked out of his study and briskly towards the library, trading the brandy in his hand for a candle. The corner of the library where the reference material was kept was dark. Darcy made his way there and held a candle to the titles before finding the Darcy copy of <em>Britannia Depicta</em>, a road atlas. Darcy started to pull it out with one hand, but then realized the size of it required both his hands to be free. He moved back to the large table meant precisely for laying out large books, lit the surrounding candles and set his candle down before returning to pull out the atlas. With a loud thud, he set the road atlas down on the table. Darcy ran one hand through his hair as he opened the tome, and his hand eventually rested covering his mouth in concentration. The illustrated road atlas had colorful renderings of many regions and towns in England, and this edition was chosen by the late Mr. Darcy for having been an updated version with topographical renderings. He would need to peruse this in an organized manner. First, he would review the maps of areas he frequented, beginning with Derbyshire itself, then to other places he has visited. He would review every single page in this atlas if he needed to, and if that failed, he would move onto the collection of maps that he had kept from his childhood.</p><p>Surely, Oakham Mount would be significant enough to be listed somewhere. Darcy felt it was the key to a puzzle he knew he was in. While he could not fully believe what the apothecary had spoken, he did have a significant sense of unease that was beginning to grow. Thus, over the next few days, any moments when he did not have estate matters to attend, he inspected maps of England and thought about the young woman who visited Pemberley.</p><p>~-~</p><p>The remaining parts of their northern tour had passed in a blur to Elizabeth Bennet, whose mind was engaged elsewhere. Several things held her thoughts after she and the Gardiners left Pemberley. Truth be told, it was less <em>several</em> things and rather <em>one</em> person. She was anxious to return to Longbourn, to see Jane, and to calm the tumult of her mind with the balm only home and family could provide.</p><p>Two days before visiting Pemberley, Elizabeth had woken with a start at the Rose and Crown Inn. She was having a vivid dream about Mr. Darcy. She had to admit that it was not uncommon for him to appear in her dreams, but it was usually fleeting. On this night, she dreamt vividly of dancing with him at the Meryton Assembly on the night they met. In her dream, she had vigorously pushed the bounds of propriety with her unabashed flirtations, and he had welcomed her teasing. It was a happier Darcy than she had ever truly seen. It would not do to grow fond of a Darcy that did not exist. Elizabeth had willed herself back to sleep, but a night did not go by when she did not think of his pensive stares, his blue eyes watching her at Netherfield. She was certain now that he <em>had</em> in fact been searching for imperfections in her, but only to dissuade himself of his growing affection. Elizabeth was not sure if this thought made her less or more upset.</p><p><em>I love you. Most ardently.</em> The memory of his voice was clear as a bell in her mind. Elizabeth viewed that moment with regret at the words she had chosen. She meant to wound him as much as he had wounded her, but she now worried she had hit her mark much harder than she intended.</p><p>After the letter he had delivered at the parsonage explained his dealings with Mr. Wickham and the reasoning behind the imprudent advice he had given Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth's mind softened towards him. She was still irritated at the delivery of his proposal and his manner in Hertfordshire, but the clarity provided by distance and time had stilled most of her anger. He had not said anything she herself had not at one time or another thought about her family. And had not Charlotte Lucas questioned Jane's feelings towards Bingley? It infuriated Elizabeth that Darcy would take it upon himself (aided by Caroline Bingley, no doubt) to intervene in Mr. Bingley and Jane's life, but she acknowledged Darcy's consideration for the well-being of his friend was a mark of good character.</p><p>Like this Elizabeth had spent the time between her visit to Charlotte and her travels with her aunt and uncle. And thus, she fluctuated from annoyance, to something close to forgiveness, to confusion, to determining that none of it mattered for she would never see him again, a thought that disquieted her more than she would admit.</p><p>When her aunt and uncle had insisted on visiting Pemberley, Elizabeth was relieved to hear that Darcy was not at home. As she toured the grounds and the rooms, his presence was pronounced. Mrs. Reynolds described a man that was unlike what she had seen of him in Hertfordshire.</p><p>Elizabeth conceded Mrs. Reynolds knew Darcy better than she did, and the character she sketched began to shape Elizabeth's own thinking of him. Darcy seemed kind and generous with those under his care, especially his sister. When she finally saw the grandness of Pemberley, Elizabeth also began to understand the tremendous responsibility Darcy had been shouldered with at only three and twenty when his father passed. And Darcy did not avoid responsibility. It was so unlike the other man in her life, Mr. Bennet. Darcy had risen to the occasion, making the difficult decisions required to protect Miss Darcy and Pemberley.</p><p>When Elizabeth came across his portrait, she saw him in a new light. There were many things she still wished to speak to him about, to better understand, and she longed to see him. She even lingered as they left the house, looking back to commit the house and grounds to memory. When she glanced up, she thought she saw a figure in the windows, but decided it was a trick of the sunlight. Elizabeth felt as though she had lost something, as if a possibility had been taken from her somehow, but she knew this to be ridiculous. Darcy was never truly hers to begin with, and their possible future was gone due to her own actions.</p><p>Elizabeth understood now that a great, generous, and kind man, for all the faults in his manners and his pride, loved her. Or at least <em>had </em>loved her. She was certain she had successfully extinguished the romantic feelings he had for her with her choice words in Kent. Elizabeth left the beautiful grounds of Pemberley dispirited.</p><p>Now, she was journeying back to Longbourn. The rest of their northern tour was uneventful. Elizabeth had received letters from Jane, who was occupied with watching their young Gardiner cousins. Little had changed at home. The most eventful thing was that Lydia had sprained an ankle on her way back from buying ribbons at Meryton for her trip to Brighton, and she spent three days in tears when she was told she was in no shape for accompanying the Forsters. All had shared in Lydia's misfortune, for Mary and Kitty were forced to help retrieve things around the house for her while Lydia's ankle healed, Mrs. Bennet felt her favorite daughter had been cheated of an opportunity to net a husband, and Mr. Bennet had absolutely no peace in his house. Jane bore it all with the usual patience and equanimity befitting her character.</p><p>There was quite a welcome party awaiting Elizabeth and the Gardiners as their carriage arrived at Longbourn. The little Gardner cousins were ecstatic to see their parents.</p><p>"Lizzy! it is wonderful to see you," Jane said as she embraced Elizabeth warmly when she disembarked the carriage. Elizabeth held Jane tightly and much longer than she usually did, even after a long journey. Ever perceptive, Jane pulled back and held Elizabeth an arms-length away, rubbing her arms comfortingly.</p><p>"Dearest Lizzy, whatever is the matter?" Jane asked, her face showing a deep concern</p><p>"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth replied. She was relieved to see Jane in good spirits, and she had not intended to be so transparent in her own distress. "I am well, Jane. I am only tired from the journey. I am happy to be home," Elizabeth said, smiling and trying to recover. Jane was not fooled, but she was not going to press Lizzy in front of the family. Kitty, Mary and Lydia, hobbling along but at least walking, were coming out of the house with excited yells, and Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Bennet were not far behind. Elizabeth greeted her family excitedly, and no one else seemed to sense anything was amiss. Shortly, Elizabeth excused herself to her room to refresh herself before joining the family for afternoon tea.</p><p>Elizabeth slowly climbed the stairs to her and Jane's room, letting her hands linger on the railing as she walked. When she opened the door to her room, her eyes were drawn to a pretty flower arrangement at the small table on her side of the bed with all of her favorite flowers from Longbourn's gardens. It was surely Jane's thoughtful doing. Underneath the flower arrangement were letters, correspondence that had arrived for Elizabeth during her travels. Elizabeth walked over to absentmindedly flip through them. Two were from Charlotte. Elizabeth looked at the writing on the envelope of the letter at the bottom of the pile, and her stomach dropped. She sunk down, landing in a seated position on the bed, holding the letter tightly in both her hands. Her name and address were written in a tight, neat script that was familiar to her. But what could Mr. Darcy possibly mean by sending her a message, through the post, without permission? Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears. Cautiously, she unfolded the letter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elizabeth could feel the pace of her heartbeat increase as her eyes first fell to the end of the letter in search of the signature, where she found the initials. <em>F.D.</em>. His initials alone sparked a restless energy within her that needed to be expended, so Elizabeth rose from her seated position, holding the letter in one hand while bringing her other hand to her cheek. She nervously walked from one side of the room to the next. Twice she went back and forth until she fortified her courage. With a deep breath, she seated herself on the edge of the bed and read:</p><p><em>Elizabeth,</em> </p><p>
  <em>Forgive my breach in propriety in sending this through the post, but as you will soon understand, it is imperative that this information reaches you. Do not be alarmed, for I have no intention of renewing the sentiments that were so abhorrent to you in Kent, although those very feelings have brought me to this most anxious state and are ultimately the reason I am writing to you now. I wish to inform you that I am taking severe measures to cast you from my thoughts. Please allow me to attempt an explanation of the means through which this is possible. I heard recently of a drink that helps a person forget someone they wish to forget through the removal of memories affiliated with the person. I met with an apothecary to obtain said remedy and was assured of its efficacy. I am sensible, then and more as I write this, of how beyond belief it sounds. I am left with little choice but to wish it achieves its purpose when I drink it tonight.  I hope you can understand that the agony that continues to plague me since our last meeting leaves me no alternatives. I simply cannot tolerate living each day with you in my every thought when I have no hope of you returning my affections. I look upon our history with regret for all that was lacking in my behavior towards you, and I recognize your scorn is not without foundation. When I close my eyes, I see yours. I hear your laughter in every room, yet your painful rejection plagues my nightmares. Thus, I would much prefer a life free of the pain and regret I have endured since we parted. While I doubt our paths will cross again, please think of this letter if we were to meet and understand why I may not know you, and I humbly request your generosity in addressing me as a stranger. I bid you a fond farewell, and I wish you and your family all the health and happiness. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>F.D.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth read the missive several times before her mind was able to assign any meaning to the words therein. It was nonsensical, ridiculous, absurd. Her irritation began rising within her, fed by the forceful extinguishing of the hope that had been flamed at the mere sight of his handwriting.</p><p>“Whatever can he mean by this? Vexing man!”  she exclaimed. Tears were beginning to pool in her eyes at the cruelty of his words. Why he would take such delight sporting with her emotions, risking censure for writing without the permission of either her or her father, only to relay an implausible tale? She would burn this and his other letter that she had previously cherished as the only part of him that remained with her. It was unlike the man she thought she was beginning to understand to be so needlessly cruel and confounding.</p><p>Elizabeth’s breath hitched as her mind raced to another conclusion. She had misjudged him before, and she did not want to risk continually misjudging him. Elizabeth steadied herself against the bed post, as if the feel of the wood would somehow calm her. She took several breaths as she contemplated his words further. When had he been false to her before? <em>Never</em>. Not even when he could have denied separating Mr. Bingley and Jane. Did he not tell her himself that he abhorred disguise and falsehoods? No, this was not a game he was playing.</p><p>“But how could this even be possible?” she said to herself. Elizabeth was alarmed to hear footsteps on the stairs, and she moved quickly to hide the letter beneath her pillow and rub the tears from her eyes. A soft knock sounded.</p><p>“Lizzy? Do you need anything?” Jane said as she opened the door. Elizabeth remained facing away from her, too afraid to look at her sister directly.</p><p>“Jane. I am feeling quite unwell. The carriage ride did not agree with me. I know it is early, but I will retire for the evening. Will you please let Mama and the others know?” Elizabeth said. She kept her voice as even as possible, and she could feel Jane’s eyes surveying her.</p><p>“Of course, Lizzy. There is far too much noise and excitement for you downstairs. I will have some soup and tea sent up for you. Please rest, dear sister,” Jane replied, closing the door behind her. Elizabeth closed her eyes in relief and let out a breath she had not realized she was holding.</p><p>Once Jane’s footsteps had receded, Elizabeth drew the letter out from under her pillow. Thus, Elizabeth spent the evening, reading and rereading the letter, her tears flowing freely. Elizabeth realized, whether the most preposterous contents were true or not, this letter was a final farewell.</p><p>Later in the evening, Elizabeth had readied herself for bed and feigned sleep when Jane returned to settle in for the night. Elizabeth’s tears of confusion and sorrow were spent, but she had not managed to cry herself to sleep quite yet. Instead, her mind was settling on the path forward. She needed to know if the potion Mr. Darcy spoke of existed at all. She would seek this answer out first before distressing herself further.  </p><p>~-~</p><p>It was not until three days later, after the Gardiners had returned to London and Longbourn had settled back into routine, that Elizabeth was able to rise early without suspicion and make her way to Meryton to see Mr. Jones, their local apothecary. She had donned her simplest brown walking dress, one that allowed her flexibility to move as quickly as one could with a long skirt. With no sisters to slow her down, she made it to Meryton in good time. A bell jingled as she walked into his shop, and he came out to greet her warmly.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth! How good it is to see you. You have been traveling this summer, I hear?”</p><p>“Good day, Mr. Jones. Yes, I have been home not a week, sir.” Elizabeth replied with a curtsy, determined to keep an air of nonchalance.</p><p>“And Miss Lydia, how is her ankle coming along?” Mr. Jones inquired.</p><p>“Very well, I understand. Thank you for tending to her, and I will apologize on her behalf if she gave you any trouble.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, I know she was dreadfully disappointed with my insistence she remain at home, but we could not risk further injury. We are lucky she is young and will be in top shape soon enough. How may I be of assistance today, Miss Elizabeth?”</p><p>Elizabeth hesitated, and then spoke. “I come out of curiosity, rather than for medical necessity.” Mr. Jones kindly smiled at her, his eyes watching her over the rim of his glasses, and she proceeded. “In a novel I was reading, there is mention of a draught that can make the drinker forget someone, a particular person of their acquaintance, entirely, by erasing memories of that person. It was quite fantastical, and I was curious to know if such a thing existed or if it was a creation entirely of the author’s doing.” Elizabeth smiled brightly, hoping she did not sound as silly to Mr. Jones as she sounded to herself.</p><p>Fortunately for Elizabeth, Mr. Jones was a curious and obliging man. “Ah, that is an interesting question Miss Elizabeth! You can be confident the author did not think that up entirely on their own. Yes, such a draught exists, although I myself have not made it, I do know of my colleagues in town who peddle such things.”</p><p>Elizabeth felt a sense of relief Mr. Darcy was being truthful. Or, at the very least, there was a real possibility of this. Then, a feeling of alarm quickly overcame her. He had <em>forgotten</em> her?</p><p>“But how can that be? Something so powerful as to selectively remove a person’s memories? And does it always work?” Elizabeth questioned rapidly.</p><p>“It does seem fantastical Miss Elizabeth, but it is not much different than all of the draughts that cure headaches and sores of all sorts. Like any remedy, it is not entirely foolproof. I have never met anyone who has taken it, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of it. From what I know of it, it is commonly sought after by spurned lovers. I imagine that’s the plot of your novel,” Mr. Jones said with a laugh. Elizabeth felt the color leave her face, and it did not go unnoticed, judging by the suddenly concerned look Mr. Jones was giving her. Elizabeth forced out a laugh.</p><p>“Yes, that is exactly it! Well, thank you, Mr. Jones, for satiating my curiosity. Good day to you, Sir,” she said with a curtsy. Mr. Jones bowed in return.</p><p>“Good day, Miss Elizabeth. Give my regards to your family.”</p><p>Elizabeth was relieved to be out of the shop. Instead of heading directly towards Longbourn, she took a longer path that routed her through some trees that stood on a hill overlooking her home. She stopped in the clearing and sat on a fallen tree that she frequently used as a reading spot. Elizabeth pulled out Mr. Darcy’s letter from the small reticule she had brought with her specifically to hold his letter. </p><p>After speaking with Mr. Jones, Elizabeth trusted Mr. Darcy’s account. She had softened towards Mr. Darcy in the months since his proposal, but now Elizabeth was realizing it would come to nothing. She had not returned his affections then on the most certain terms. Yet, when he had written this letter, he still felt great affection towards her.</p><p>“Affection <em>and anger</em>,” Elizabeth said aloud. “What fools we have been! Oh, Mr. Darcy, we shall never see each other again, and now you at least have the luxury of forgetting all of this, and I am left to live with my regrets.” She felt wounded and alone, and even displeased with Mr. Darcy. She thought of her familiar accusation towards him, of being selfish and uncaring for others, and how this was a perfect example of that, but she knew she was only thinking this in her anger. She could hardly hold it against him, considering how much <em>she</em> had wounded <em>him</em>.  Tears of grief began to flow, and Elizabeth cried herself out before she could regain sufficient composure to return to Longbourn, tears and hope equally spent.</p><p>~-~</p><p>Over the following weeks, Darcy had little success in finding any more information about “Lizzy” or Oakham Mount. When he had inquired with Mrs. Reynolds about the visitors, she said that the couple lived in London and were traveling with their niece, but there was nothing further to report, except that the girl had been a keen listener and kind, and the older couple were fashionable and generous. Darcy had resigned himself that Oakham Mount either did not exist or was too insignificant to be depicted on any of the maps housed in Pemberley. His good spirits were beginning to wane as he was feeling increasingly unsettled, taking long rides across his grounds and spending less and less time with Georgiana.</p><p>This morning found Darcy in an agitated state in his study. He was settled at his desk in restless contemplation, his elbows propped on the desk while his chin rested against his hands. Darcy was not sleeping well; a shadowy figure was a consistent presence in his dreams, and he felt troubled when he walked around the lake at Pemberley. He had a sense that something was incredibly amiss, but he could not place it. He would never plague Georgiana with his discontent, so he simply brooded alone in his study.</p><p>Darcy sighed as he glanced at the untidy state of his desk. A pile of paperwork was next to him, along with correspondence he had not had the energy to read and respond to. To distract himself with useful employment, Darcy stood up and began sifting through the paperwork on his large desk. The mess of papers bothered Darcy from the moment he had returned to Pemberley, as he was fastidious about organizing his personal records and anything to do with the estate, but it appeared he had been neglecting this particular task.</p><p>Darcy had been at work for half an hour and was nearly finished when he noticed a medium sized map folded and hidden amongst other papers. His eyebrows furrowed as to its presence on his desk, and he pulled it out to lay it flat. It was a map of an estate and the strong handwriting writing at the top labeled it as Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire. Darcy quickly riffled through the surrounding paperwork and found a note from his friend Bingley, dated early last autumn, inviting Darcy to accompany Bingley on a trip to inspect it.</p><p>Bingley was interested in advancing his family’s position in society by purchasing a country estate, but first he needed to determine how suited he was for estate management, and Darcy was the best man of his acquaintance to help him survey and find an estate befitting his situation and ability. All this Darcy remembered with clarity, but he found the details of his visit hazy, and cursed himself for not having looked for the map of Hertfordshire earlier. How could he have forgotten? Bingley had sent him a rendering of the grounds that were part of Netherfield Park with measurements of the house itself, and on the back was a simple map of the country surrounding the estate, including the town Meryton and other smaller parcels of land. Immediately, Darcy’s eyes were drawn to the name he had spent days searching for. <em>Oakham Mount </em>was listed near the borders of the map. In unseemly over exuberance, Darcy pointed at the name with his index finger.</p><p>“There!” he exclaimed. A small smile formed on his lips, pleased that his search had not been in vain. If only he had been more fastidious in clearing his desk, he would not have spent so many hours examining the atlases and maps in the library. Darcy was not one to hesitate once his course was set. Whatever drew him to this location, he needed to see it for himself. He would write to Bingley at once and ask him to reopen Netherfield Park. The London season was almost over, and surely Bingley, ever amenable, would be interested in a shooting expedition. No sooner had Darcy settled on writing to Bingley forthwith that one of Darcy’s butlers arrived with the post.  </p><p>Darcy was pleased to see fortune was favoring him, as a letter from no other but Charles Bingley himself was amongst the correspondence that arrived.  Eagerly, Darcy tore the wax seal. An annoyed exhale of breath left him as he saw Bingley’s familiar script: words crossed out, blotted, and written with such rapidity as to make some of it illegible. He was able to decipher most of the following:</p><p>
  <em>Darcy,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I cannot begin to understand what you were on about in your last letter regarding E. B[blot]. I can only conclude it was written in a fit of [blot] brought on by heavy drinking, and I hope to hear directly from you what you are up to. Still, your [blot] made me reflect fondly of our time in Hertfordshire and of our friends there. Before I end the lease, I would very much like to visit one last time, and I insist you join me. I hope your affection for me and our friendship is reason enough for you to accompany me without further persuasion or [blot]. I look to leave within a fortnight. Return a response quickly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Respectfully,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Charles Bingley </em>
</p><p>Darcy did not understand why Bingley would not rewrite letters that were carelessly written, and he could only conclude that Bingley believed this habit to be a charming part of his character. He could not remember when he last wrote to Bingley, so he had no idea who “E. B---” was, and he wished Bingley had been more explicit and careful. Still, Darcy could not linger on the more perplexing elements of Bingley’s letter when he was celebrating the fortuitous nature of being invited to Hertfordshire the very day he wished to visit. He would satiate his desire to visit Oakham Mount. Darcy was certain visiting the site was strongly related to solving his feeling of discontent. It all seemed quite simple, really.</p><p>Darcy sat at his desk and penned a response with as much alacrity as he possessed, affirming that he would accompany Bingley to Hertfordshire and enquiring if Georgiana could accompany them, as he felt a trip with his good friend and his sister would be just the thing that would set him right again.  He expected to find exactly whatever it was he was missing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Jane Austen universe, including all the wonderful adaptations and fanfics is so comforting in these uncertain times we live in. I also greatly appreciate the fanfic community here! We are so near the much anticipated D/E meeting. If I am anxious for it, I can only imagine how you are feeling! Thank you for taking the time to leave a review/comment.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Darcys sent forth from Derbyshire to meet Mr. Bingley in London with uncontained enthusiasm. Darcy, with eagerness to return to Hertfordshire in search of answers to questions he had not asked, and Georgiana with the thrill of being included in her brother’s travels, a pleasure she had not enjoyed since before Ramsgate.</p><p>Georgiana was thoroughly surprised when Darcy revealed he was returning to Hertfordshire with Mr. Bingley. She had waited for further details as to his designs, but he assured her he was going at the request of Mr. Bingley. When she pressed him further, he shared nothing else. Satisfied, Georgiana did not inquire after his motivations again. For Georgiana, the situation spoke to her brother’s loyalty to his friend to willingly place himself in a potentially uncomfortable situation for the sake of his friendship.</p><p>When they arrived to London, they stayed at Darcy House for an evening before Bingley arrived for them the following day.</p><p>“Darcy! Miss Darcy,” Bingley said jovially as they met him in the waiting hall. The footmen were rapidly beginning to load the Darcy trunks into the extra carriage precisely for that purpose.</p><p>“Bingley,” Darcy said with a smile that only Bingley’s good humor could bring out in him. Bingley bowed to Georgiana and she returned it with a regal curtsy and shy smile. While she had spent some time in his company and he had always been so amiable towards her, she was still timid.</p><p>“Mr. Bingley,” Georgiana glanced up at Darcy, who smiled and nodded for her to proceed. “Please accept my gratitude in inviting me to Hertfordshire with you and my brother. I am delighted to visit Netherfield, for I heard so much about it in letters from my brother--” Georgiana stopped abruptly, realizing she had said too much. Darcy glanced at her curiously but said anything. Bingley did not notice.</p><p>“You are always welcome, Miss Darcy. Come, let us begin our journey. I am most eager to arrive and get settled. Then, we can solidify our plans for our stay. Miss Darcy, the local society has many lovely young ladies that I am sure you will find as enchanting as I do, and Darcy and I will certainly partake of some shooting….” Mr. Bingley’s ramblings on the charms of Hertfordshire society and the virtues of the country kept the trio occupied as the they moved out from the busier streets of the city. Georgiana sat across from Mr. Bingley, and Darcy had settled on starring out the window, his thoughts occupied.</p><p>“Miss Darcy, there is one family in particular I would like very much for you to meet. We spent some time in the company of a Miss Jane Bennet and her sister.” Mr. Bingley said, his voice rising a pitch as he smiled. Darcy glanced at Bingley. He recollected Bingley’s infatuation with one of the local beauties, but her indifference towards Bingley had been noticed by Darcy and Bingley’s sister, and the unsuitable match was avoided. It was not until Bingley made reference to this family that Darcy recollected the lady in question.</p><p>“Bingley, did not you say this would be the trip to help you decide on whether Netherfield was a good match –excuse me–fit for you and end the lease if it is not?” Darcy asked, his eyebrows raising slightly. He turned back towards the window before Bingley responded.</p><p>“Of course, Darcy. I will decide after spending some time there. But there is no harm in renewing some of our acquaintances and saying a proper goodbye if it comes to it—”</p><p>Georgiana stared widely at Mr. Bingley, attempting to draw his attention to her without arising the attention of her brother. She shifted her foot slightly, causing Mr. Bingley to look at her. </p><p>“ –even you, Darcy, cannot object to renewing our acquaintance with Miss Bennet and Miss—”</p><p>Georgiana’s eyes widen slightly. She dared not glance at her brother. She was not sure if Mr. Bingley had received a similar letter as she had, and she waited to see if Mr. Bingley would mention Miss Elizabeth. He was dangerously close. Mr. Bingley saw Georgiana turn her head ever so slightly to the left and right, her eyebrows raised with a knowing look at him. Mr. Bingley looked at her curiously but understood.</p><p>“with Miss Bennet and her neighbors,” he finished dumbly. Darcy made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment. Mr. Bingley looked contemplative and did not speak for some time. Georgiana pulled out a novel to read as the trio sat in companionable silence.</p><p>Darcy was eventually lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the carriage, his head drooping towards the glass of the window and slightly forward. Georgiana and Mr. Bingley eyed him wearily.</p><p>“Is he asleep?” Mr. Bingley whispered.</p><p>“Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana asked. “Fitzwilliam.” She said again, a little louder. He did not stir. “He is a deep sleeper. I have always marveled at his ease of sleeping in a carriage. He is just like father in that way,” Georgiana said. Mr. Bingley had a way of making her feel comfortable, as he did with everyone, and while her natural timidity prevented her from contributing greatly to usual conversation, she had to seize her courage for the sake of her brother.</p><p>“I received a letter—”</p><p>“Mr. Bingley, I must explain---”</p><p>They both whispered at the same time. Mr. Bingley smiled at her and motioned for her to continue.</p><p>“Did you receive a letter from my brother about—” she glanced at Darcy before lowing her voice even further. “About Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”</p><p>“Yes!” Mr. Bingley replied, rather excitedly. He immediately pursed his lips together, realizing he had spoken too loudly. Georgiana shot a nervous look at Darcy, but he remained undisturbed. Bingley mouthed an apology.  </p><p>“I received one as well. He asked me not to speak about Miss Elizabeth, but he offered no explanation. I am quite surprise he agreed to accompany you here, as his letter implied that perhaps…oh, I do not know, Mr. Bingley, but I am so worried about him,” Georgiana whispered, her distress evident on her face.</p><p>“I did not know he wrote something similar to you. I was not going to pay him any mind, as I do not know what he was on about, and besides, I can hardly avoid her when she is the dearest sister of---” he paused, a blush forming on his cheeks, then continued. “I plan on seeing Miss Jane Bennet, and I will likely be unable to avoid her favorite sister. His note was nonsensical. He wished for me to endeavor to keep him and Miss Elizabeth separated. You know how he composes his communications—four syllable words when two would do, and he went on and on about misplaced pride, something about memories, and I know not what. I took him mostly in jest or driven by drink.”</p><p>“So you have brought him back after he specifically asked you not to?” Georgiana replied, awed that Mr. Bingley would contradict her brother in such a fashion.</p><p>“I merely asked, and he acquiesced. He could not have been truly <em>serious</em> about <em>never</em> seeing…”</p><p>Darcy shifted in his seat and Mr. Bingley stopped speaking. They were silent for some time.</p><p>“Miss Darcy, whatever happened between them cannot have been more than a misunderstanding. When they were at Netherfield, they disagreed with each for <em>entertainment</em>, if you could imagine. I know Darcy has some objections to the family, but could never faulted Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth for it. I am certain once we call on them on Longbourn, they can be friendly again, and we will make a jolly party.”</p><p>Georgiana thought on Mr. Bingley’s words before choosing her own carefully. “Mr. Bingley. I plan to honor my brother’s request. As his sister, it is the least I can do. He was most despondent this winter and spring, and I cannot bear to bring him any further disappointment.  He asks so little of me. Please, at the very least, let us allow him to lead. If he has come here with the intent of avoiding Miss Elizabeth, then we must not create a situation that could possible distress him,” Georgiana looked at Mr. Bingley. The sincerity in her concern moved him; he felt a swell of brotherly affection for her and wished his own sisters would be so loyal and generous with him as Miss Darcy was to her brother.</p><p>“You have convinced me, Miss Darcy. I will not design to bring them together at all or only when absolutely necessary. A need may arise, Miss Darcy, as I am eager to renew my acquaintance with Miss Bennet, if she will have me,” he added somewhat wistfully. Georgiana smiled kindly at him. They sat in silence for most of the remainder of the journey, Darcy’s steady breathing just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the road.</p><p>~-~</p><p>Their arrival and first evening at Netherfield Park was uneventful. Darcy was anxious for morning, when he intended to set out in search of Oakham Mount. Bingley was a late riser, and Darcy intended to use this to his advantage. He wanted to go alone. With the pretense of being tired from a journey he had mostly spent asleep, Darcy retired to his chambers early, eager for morning to arrive.</p><p>The morning was still early, with the sun only beginning to rise over the horizon to douse the countryside with a soft light, when Darcy had mounted his horse. Hours spent studying the map of Hertfordshire helped commit the route from Netherfield to Oakham Mount to memory. He felt the tightness of anticipation as he neared the path to Oakham Mount. He could not put into words what he was expecting to find, but he knew he needed to see for himself.</p><p>The last part of the path was wooded and more easily tread by walking, so Darcy dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, and walked through the dense wood with nothing but the crunch of the path beneath him and the view to accompany him. As the path inclined and the trees cleared, a pleasant prospect emerged, overlooking the vast countryside of Hertfordshire. It was not unlike the views in his beloved Derbyshire.</p><p>Darcy walked restlessly on the edge of the mount. As fine as the view was, he was unsatisfied. He had expected more. He cursed himself for his foolishness. He had attributed a great deal of meaning to this location for the past few weeks, without any hint of reason as to why. He was behaving quite foolishly. Darcy was chastising himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair, when he suddenly sensed that he was not alone.</p><p>Darcy turned slowly and was greeted by the sight of a young woman. When Darcy saw her, he came to the realization that he had been not only hoping for her presence but, beyond any reason, <em>expecting</em> it. Darcy’s breath caught as he saw her, and he was filled with an unfamiliar sense of longing that threatened to overwhelm him.</p><p>Lizzy. Elizabeth<em>. </em>She was a vision in the morning light. She had still not spotted him, as she was concentrating on maneuvering the path. She wore a dark blue dress that stood out against the golden surroundings, and he could make out her brown curls partially hidden by a small bonnet. He realized as she drew closer that her progress was slowed by her jumping on some of the low boulders that lined in the path, and she would occasionally test her balance by jumping from one stone to the next before returning to the path.</p><p>She alternated this exercise, smiling to herself when she made a particularly daring step. He noticed a book in her hand as she stretched her arms out for balance before hopping off the last boulder. It was then that she looked ahead, saw him, and stilled. They were not far away from each other; a few strides and he could breech the length between them.</p><p>Her cheeks were flushed from her walk, and the soft light of the sun hit her eyes in such a way that even from the distance, they shone. It was indeed the same girl from Pemberley whose relations had called Lizzy. In his shock, Darcy still managed to chastise himself for finding her common when he glanced her at Pemberley. Clearly, his first impression had not done her any justice. She looked at him with surprise, and Darcy could see her figure tense as he walked towards her, a stark contrast to the playfulness in her manner he had witnessed when she believed herself alone. He found himself wishing he had been able to observe her for longer.</p><p>She brought the book she was holding to her chest, clinging it to her body with both arms, and she curtsied with a soft incline to her head.  </p><p>“Sir,” she said, her tone inscrutable to him.</p><p>He bowed in return and straightened quickly, anxious to return his eyes to hers. He was conscious of their lack of introduction. He suddenly felt very embarrassed to admit to her he recognized her from her visit to Pemberley. What could he say? Hello, madam, I watched you through a doorway and observed you from a window, can you consider that a sufficient introduction? Or better: I dreamt of meeting you here, and I am very pleased to see you?</p><p>Darcy quickly disregarded any of that as an option. He would describe her to Bingley and seek a formal introduction. Bingley surely knew her as she was clearly a gentlewoman, and they had met so many families last year, but Darcy marveled that he could not remember meeting her.</p><p>“Madam,” he replied politely. “I hope I have not startled you. I was admiring the prospect. I did not anticipate meeting anyone so early in the morning, and on such a secluded and removed walk,” he added with a reassuring smile. He felt comforted by her presence, and it felt easy to smile and speak with her at length. She did not return the smile, and her eyes darted to the side to avoid his. His brow furrowed as he realized she did not feel the same ease. Instead, she looked in turmoil.</p><p>“I must be going,” she finally said. “Pardon me.”</p><p>“No,” Darcy objected more loudly than he intended. He did not want her to go. He wanted to ask her about her visit to Pemberley, even though he knew he could not. His objection seemed to distress her further. “Forgive me, madam. I meant that you should not allow my presence to disrupt your morning. I have enjoyed the view enough for today and was on my way.”</p><p>He bowed and walked past her. He wanted to stay longer, to speak to her more. He turned.</p><p>“Do you walk here often?” Darcy asked. She did not immediately turn to face him.</p><p>After a moment, she looked over her shoulder and nodded her head once. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>Darcy bowed again and continued on the path that would lead him back to his horse, his mind filled with her.</p><p>~-~</p><p>As Darcy rounded a corner a disappeared from view, Elizabeth let out a breath she had not realized she was holding.</p><p>“What is he doing here?” she groaned aloud. She had scarcely allowed herself to hope that Mr. Darcy had returned with Mr. Bingley. That he would find her. That he would know her. That he would give them the opportunity to start again. And then he was there, at Oakham Mount, perhaps her favorite place in all of Hertfordshire. It was almost more than Elizabeth could bear when he did not address her by name.</p><p>Elizabeth had observed Mr. Darcy’s face carefully as she spoke. She thought she saw a flicker of recognition cross his face, but it was fleeting.  Elizabeth now struggled to keep her own emotions in check.  She glanced down at the book of poetry she now clung to her body. Tucked within its pages were his letters. His letter to her had requested, in the humblest of terms, that if they were to meet, she should address him as a stranger. She had done so. Out of respect for him and in penitence for having been so wrong about him, she honored his request.</p><p>She thought it would be easy. In the days since receiving his letter, she imagined she would encounter him someday in the streets of London while visiting her aunt and uncle, and pass him without a second look. She also imagined that she would <em>never</em> encounter him. She had not imagined that she would see him again in Hertfordshire. Now the thought of Mr. Bingley calling at Longbourn filled her with dread. Did Mr. Bingley know? Would he bring Mr. Darcy?</p><p>Elizabeth made her way back to a larger rock that she frequently sat on while at Oakham Mount, her thoughts running a mile a minute. Perhaps the situation was not as dire as she thought. Now that this initial meeting was over, she could meet him, for her part, indifferently. If he had no memory of her, then at least it sparred her from the embarrassment of the words she said to him in Kent. She would pay him no mind, and he would do the same. After his explanation regarding Wickham, Elizabeth fancied that she understood him a little better. She recollected their exchanges, which were sometimes heated, their tension fueled by her impertinence and his arrogance. But upon further reflection, Mr. Darcy was a man she could have a lively conversation with and who would treat her as his equal in conversation. Perhaps, in their limited encounters, they could rekindle that. And nothing more.</p><p>It was decided. Resolutely, Elizabeth stood. She would not seek Mr. Darcy out, and she would not tell him the truth of their history, per his request. If she happened to meet with him, she would be polite and indifferent. It was the least she could do. She had renewed hope for Jane, at the very least. Mr. Bingley had found his way back to her, and Elizabeth was confident he would call on Jane and renew their acquaintance. Jane deserved all the joy. Elizabeth would not allow whatever this strange situation was with Mr. Darcy impede on her sister’s happiness. He had done enough to delay Jane’s happiness already. Determined to enjoy her morning, Elizabeth settled down to read in the shade of a tree. It would take every bit of concentration to keep her thoughts on poetry and not on the gentleman who had returned to Hertfordshire.   </p><p>~-~</p><p>Darcy returned from Oakham Mount to find Mr. Bingley and Georgiana sitting to breakfast. He was aglow. Seeing his mystery Lizzy at Oakham Mount felt <em>right</em> in a way he had spent the entire ride back to Netherfield trying to comprehend. He was too busy marveling at the hands of fate that had brought him here to think very critically about much of anything. It would take him much more time to put together any of the pieces of the puzzle that were directly in front of him.</p><p>“Fitzwilliam! Good morning!” Georgiana said brightly as Darcy sat down beside her.</p><p>“Darcy! Already run off to enjoy the countryside without me? I hope you have not had your fill of riding. I need you to accompany me to survey the grounds,” Bingley said with a smile, as he slathered jam on his roll. Darcy eagerly drank the coffee that was set down in front of him.</p><p>“You know very well I rarely have my fill of riding, Bingley, and the morning is very fine,” Darcy responded. Bingley arched his eyebrows.</p><p>“You enjoyed your morning, then?”</p><p>“Indeed. I had the pleasure of taking in a fine prospect. In fact,” Darcy said, with an air of unconvincing nonchalance, “I came across a young lady on my visit there. I do not remember making her acquaintance on our previous visit, so I was unable to converse with her. She must be not yet one and twenty. About Georgiana’s height, brown eyes and hair. I was hoping you may know her and could introduce me.”</p><p>Bingley smiled brightly at Darcy, “Ah, a clandestine meeting in the country with a lady you do not know! Darcy, where is your sense of propriety!” Georgiana giggled as Darcy glared. It was not the most appropriate implications to make in front of his sister.</p><p>“It was not <em>clandestine</em>. It was an accidental and brief meeting,” Darcy said pointedly.</p><p>“I am only teasing,” Bingley said and scrunched up his face in thought. He took a bite of his roll. Darcy waited impatiently.  </p><p>“Let me see if I can remember all the families. Was it Miss Maria Lucas? No, she has fair hair. Perhaps it was one of the nieces of Mrs. Long? I am not if you ever spoke with them. I believe they are often in town, though. And of course it was not one of the younger Bennet sisters…”</p><p>Darcy waved the names off with his hands, remembering Miss Jane Bennet’s three younger and silly sisters and the other ladies Bingley named. “No, no. Well, it is no matter, perhaps we will encounter her in society,” Darcy said. He took a moment to glance at Georgiana, who had gone silent and was looking at him with concern.</p><p>“Georgiana? Are you well?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, of course. I am just…nothing. It is nothing,” she replied, hiding herself behind her tea cup. Darcy smiled kindly at her.  The trio committed to meeting for lunch together and to then take a walk around the Netherfield gardens and a tour of the house for Georgiana. Georgiana would entertain herself in the parlor while the men were out.</p><p>Darcy, for his part, passed the day awaiting the evening and then the moment he could retire to his chambers, for he had every intention of returning to Oakham Mount the next morning. Determined to not allow his thoughts to wander too much, Darcy was as amiable of a companion to Bingley as he ever had been, and Bingley noticed nothing amiss. Still, morning could not come soon enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I appreciate the patience as this is a work in progress (with a very strong outline and about four more chapters to go). Thank you for reading and reviewing! I am excited to hear your thoughts on what will happen next! Out of curiosity, what are your preferences for chapter lengths? This was the longest chapter yet, but I was not inclined to make two shorter chapters out of it because I personally prefer chapters to be on the longer side when I read a story. Also, I want all you to know how much I have enjoyed being part of this fanfic community right now. We are a good bunch!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mr. Darcy had visited Oakham Mount early every morning for three days only to be disappointed. He would walk slowly up the wooded incline until reaching the top of Oakham Mount, where he would linger for the length of the morning in anticipation of Elizabeth’s appearance, and he even rode through other the countryside near Netherfield, hoping to find her on a different path, to no avail. He was beginning to wonder if he had imagined her appearance there earlier that week entirely.</p><p>His perseverance would soon be rewarded. On the morning of the fourth day, the clouded gray skies matched Darcy’s mood. It was too cold for late summer. He arrived on foot to Oakham Mount with little hope, a book in his hand to pass the time, only to be greeted by the sight of Elizabeth standing at the edge of the prospect, looking out beyond, the chilly wind of the day blowing her coat around her. Darcy approached her cautiously, as if disrupting her may cause her to disappear entirely. He felt a pang in his chest at the peculiar thought.</p><p>He watched her from a distance for some time before she turned and approached a tree at the edge of the clearing. Darcy noticed she was carrying a book. She sat with her back reclined against the tree, her knees raised so that she may rest her book on them. Darcy allowed her to read a few pages before he approached.</p><p>Elizabeth’s surprise was apparent; she colored as they exchanged greetings. Darcy was aware of the impropriety of an acquaintance formed not in the drawing rooms of a respectable home but in what was effectively wilderness, yet he found himself too animated by finding her there again after so many days of solitude to care. Her embarrassment at encountering him only recommended her to him more and assured him of her respectability.</p><p>“May I?” Darcy asked, seeing a space a suitable yet still close distance from her. He motioned towards the spot with the hand holding his own book. Elizabeth gave him a half-smile and nodded, then returned to reading. Darcy could not read the emotions on her face. He sat on the ground, stretching out his long legs.</p><p>“It seems we are of a common opinion,” Darcy said, attempting to pull her into a conversation. He briefly wondered if he had ever attempted to draw anyone, besides Georgiana, into conversation.</p><p>“What do you mean, Sir?” Elizabeth responded, her eyes looking over her book to him.</p><p>“I have found this a pleasant place to read as well.”</p><p>Her eyebrows raised as she asked, “Have you?”</p><p>“Yes, I have come here every morning,” Darcy paused, hoping the implication behind his words would land. He had a desperate feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt compelled to let her know about all these strange things he had experienced, how he had been drawn to Oakham Mount, how he had searched for it only to find it by accident, and how he had been glad when he saw her there. Darcy knew it would be mad.</p><p>“Hertfordshire is a celebrated countryside, and this is a particularly pleasing area,” she said simply. Darcy was unable to think of a response to this, so he simply looked at her as she returned to reading. They sat in silence for some time, Elizabeth engrossed in her reading, and Darcy engrossed in her. She did not seem especially surprised or bothered by his presence. In fact, she seemed determine now to acknowledge him further, until curiosity overset her.</p><p>Elizabeth glanced up at the book that lay untouched beside him. “Are you a fan of gothic novels, Sir?” Her tone was teasing.</p><p>Darcy, momentarily distracted by the glimmer in her eyes, was confused by her question. It was not until he himself glanced at the book he had brought that he remembered what title he had taken from his trunk.</p><p>“Ah. I am reading this one at the request of my sister. She is the one who enjoys them, and she needs someone to discuss it with, so I am usually reading the genre for her.”</p><p>“That is very kind of you. I hope the frightful stories do not keep you up at night. Perhaps that is why you prefer reading them in the safety daylight provides,” Elizabeth teased. Darcy smiled. He felt at ease in her company in a way that he previously only felt with his closest family.</p><p>“You have found me out, Miss—” he paused, unwilling to reveal that he knew her name was covertly spying on her at Pemberley. He raised an inquiring eyebrow to her instead. Elizabeth glanced upwards and to her right, before bringing her dark eyes to meet his.</p><p>“Elizabeth. Miss Elizabeth,” she quietly offered.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth,” he repeated. The memory of a rainy Sunday passed fleetingly through his mind. “My name is Darcy. Of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”</p><p> She gave him a small smile. If smiles were to be his reward for speaking, he set on continuing.</p><p>“Is your selection better suited that mine for reading outdoors on a summer morning?” Darcy inquired.</p><p>“Perfectly adequate, yes,” Elizabeth replied. Darcy looked at her inquiringly and she held up her book so he could see the title—selected poems by Alexander Pope.</p><p>“Poetry! Yes, I daresay that is a much more fitting selection. In fact, I would enjoy that much better,” Darcy spoke slowly, hoping his courage would catch up with him. “Would you mind reading it aloud? You may start wherever you are, no need to change anything on my account.”</p><p>The blush that formed on Elizabeth’s cheeks was very becoming. She hesitated, but then collected herself and began reading. Darcy was pleased to recognize the poem she was reading was a poem about love, even though the love story it was based on did not end well. He had always considered poetry as the food of love, and this suited him perfectly. He gazed at her intently as she read, and she seemed determined not to glance up at him.</p><p>“<em>Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join<br/></em><em>Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.<br/></em><em>Nor foes nor fortune take this pow’r away;<br/></em><em>And is my Abelard less kind than they?<br/></em><em>Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,<br/></em><em>Love but demands what else were shed in pray’r;<br/></em><em>No happier tasks these faded eyes pursue;<br/></em><em>To read and weep is all they now can do…</em>”</p><p>Darcy closed his eyes as she spoke, allowing himself to indulge in the pleasure of hearing this bewitching girl read to him.</p><p>“<em>…How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!<br/></em><em>The world forgetting by the world forgot.<br/></em><em>Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!<br/></em><em>Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d…”</em></p><p>The poem was long, and Elizabeth’s steady rhythm would have lulled him to sleep if he had not opened his eyes to watch her again. When she finally reached the end, she looked up at him. Not the first time, he was moved by her beauty.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said.</p><p>“I ought to return home,” she said, closing the book. Darcy rose to his feet quickly and extended his hand to help her rise. Elizabeth shook her head and hoisted herself up on her own accord.</p><p>“Good day, Mr. Darcy,” she said before departing. The sound of his name on her lips caused his heart to flutter.</p><p>~-~</p><p>Mr. Darcy was unable to keep himself away from Oakham Mount on every morning since this meeting. On the days he did not encounter her there, he would sometimes be lucky enough to see her rambling through a different part of Hertfordshire, and he would join her on these walks at all hours of the morning and afternoon. She was always alone. He spoke of her no more to Bingley or Georgiana, and neither of them brought up his solitary morning excursions.</p><p>Darcy and Elizabeth would sometimes walk in companionable silence, and at other times, Darcy tried to draw her out by asking her opinion on books, or a poem, or even the latest news from the front. When she spoke, she was everything that is charming and agreeable. Darcy felt a reticence in her, and he noticed that she spoke of her family rarely and in generalities. She was skilled in diverting the focus back to him, and he spoke with her more freely than anyone else he had met.</p><p>For Elizabeth’s part, their almost daily meetings often distressed her. He was behaving much more amiable than he had during his first visit to Hertfordshire. His more easy manner offered her a glimpse into the man she could have married if she had not believed Wickham’s lies, and if Darcy had not interfered with Jane and Mr. Bingley. The former was no longer of consequence, as Wickham’s regiment had long left Hertfordshire and she believed Mr. Darcy’s account of his behavior, and the latter concern was resolving itself with Mr. Bingley’s frequent calls to Longbourn.</p><p>Darcy had given her no indication that he remembered their prior acquaintance, and Elizabeth herself sometimes did not think of their strange circumstances. She sometimes wondered and hoped this was a way for them to begin anew, but it was only a matter of time before he met her family, and his disapproval was sure to be the same. It was only for Jane’s sake that she did not wish the Netherfield party to be removed entirely from the county.</p><p>She was returned from a trip into Meryton with Kitty when the house was in an uproar. Mr. Bingley had agreed to dine with them the following evening, and preparations were already beginning. Jane was clearly simultaneously pleased by this development and abashed at their mother’s cries of joy. By Mrs. Bennet’s behavior, one would think that Mr. Bingley’s offer depended on how satisfying the meal would be.  </p><p>“Are Mr. Bingley’s friends joining us as well?” Elizabeth asked Jane as unaffectedly as she could manage while hanging her walking coat and bonnet.</p><p>Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet responded. “Yes! Mr. Darcy— that disagreeable man has not even called on us—will accompany him. It is most unavoidable. I hear his sister, Miss Darcy, is an elegant beauty—though she has nothing on my dear Jane, I am sure—and is quite the timid creature. It would do all of your girls well to try to befriend her. She may invite you to town! And we shan’t fault her simply because she is related to Mr. Darcy. The poor girl cannot help it!”</p><p>Kitty and Lydia giggled, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm at her mother’s impolite censure of Mr. Darcy but said nothing. Elizabeth had been careful in not mentioning her family name to Mr. Darcy, and she was certain he had not yet made a connection between her and Jane. How on earth was he going to react to seeing her here? What kind of confusion would it cause? Or perhaps this would be enough to reignite his memories? Is that what she wanted? Elizabeth grew more worried with each thought.</p><p>“Are you all right, Lizzy?” Jane asked when Elizabeth sat beside her on the sofa.</p><p>“Yes, Jane. I am just worried about mama’s behavior towards Mr. Bingley’s guests.”</p><p>Jane smiled at touched  Elizabeth’s hand, “Are you now Mr. Darcy’s defender, Lizzy?” she said with a smile. Elizabeth smiled at the teasing remark as Jane continued, “All will be well. They know what mama is like, and I am sure Miss Darcy will be delighted to spend some time in the company of girls her own age.”</p><p>It occurred to Elizabeth then that Mr. Darcy may not remember exactly what her mother and family was like. She resolved to try to ease his discomfort as much as possible, and hope that she may soothe over any of Mr. Darcy’s questions. At least now they would be formerly introduced and could meet less secretly. With a rush of concern, Elizabeth suddenly realized that he may no longer wish to see her again after this dinner. This thought would occupy her thoughts as she awaited dinner the following day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My wonderful and patient readers! Thank you for reading. I look forward to every single review. So many frequent and familiar "faces" now, and I appreciate the long and short comments alike! I hope you enjoyed ODC time alone together- we'll see how long Darcy's bliss lasts, as the approaching dinner will cause issues! I'm anticipating 17 chapters now. Also, the poem referenced here is Alexander Pope's "Eloisa to Abelard." The love story it is based on is sad and gruesome, but it did inspire "some pretty verses", and it is the origin of the film title for "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", the film where I've borrowed the memory-erasing plot device from. Two strangers would probably not read this to each other as it is about the "sins of love," but I'll use my creative license here to pay homage. Thank you for sticking with this work-in-progress!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment that Elizabeth dreaded came at the hurried speed these sorts of things tend to come. She dressed carefully for dinner, wearing a rose-pink dress with a delicate flower pattern.  She accentuated her waist with a cream-colored lace ribbon. Overall, Elizabeth was pleased with her appearance with her unruly hair tamed into an updo. She did not even need to pinch her cheeks pink, as her nerves made her quite warm and flushed her face. She hoped it made her look well and not sick.</p><p>She was ready well before Jane, since their mother insisted Jane take a substantial amount of time to perfect her look to impress Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth waited in the parlor, with Mary, who was more interested in her book than in speaking with Elizabeth. Kitty and Lydia came into the parlor giggling to themselves.</p><p>“Lizzy! You look lovely,” Kitty said, dropping down onto the sofa in a most unladylike manner.</p><p>“Thank you, Kitty,” Elizabeth said, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress absentmindedly.</p><p>“Are you trying to look more <em>tolerable</em> tonight, Lizzy?” Lydia giggled. The Bennets, spurred on by Elizabeth, had made a great family joke out of Darcy’s comment from the assembly. Elizabeth no longer found any humor in it.</p><p>“That’s enough, Lydia. I hope I do not need to remind all of you,” Elizabeth looked pointedly at each sister in the room, “How important it is for <em>Jane</em> that we are all on our best behavior,” Elizabeth’s admonishment was cut short as Jane and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet entered the room. Mrs. Bennet was still fussing over Jane, trying to pinch her cheeks into a rosy shade, and Mr. Bennet had clearly been chastened into awaiting their guests in the parlor instead of hiding in his library.</p><p>Elizabeth was too nervous to attend to any of the conversations around her, and soon enough Mrs. Hill announced the Netherfield party before they entered the room, “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Darcy, ma’am.”</p><p>Bingley’s smiled brightly as he entered the room, his eyes immediately finding Jane’s before bowing in greeting. Elizabeth’s courage had not found her yet, so her eyes remained on the floor when she curtsied in honor of their guests.</p><p>“Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet. Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lydia, please allow me to introduce you to my guest. Darcy you know, and this is his sister Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire.”</p><p>Elizabeth glanced up to smile warmly at Georgiana, who smiled nervously in return to the Bennets. Her eyes traveled from Georgiana to Mr. Darcy, who was staring at Elizabeth intently. He did not smile, and judging by his slightly parted lips, was surprised to see her. He recovered quickly after he met her gaze, drawing his eyes away rather pointedly, closing his lips firmly together, and motioning for his sister to sit in an open chair.</p><p>“Oh Miss Darcy, welcome to Longbourn. Any friend of Mr. Bingley is a friend of ours. I wish Mr. Darcy had called on us this week so we may have met you sooner. Mr. Darcy, you must have been very busy to have forgotten to visit Longbourn, but I heard you have not called on anyone in the neighborhood which I daresay is unusual even for you, Mr. Darcy, though I am sure you have your reasons, and I must say we have not wanted for a pleasant time with Mr. Bingley’s company,” Mrs. Bennet cried.</p><p>“Mama,” Elizabeth said tightly, widening her eyes pointedly at her mother. Her admonishment of Darcy was too much for Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet was quickly moving on to another topic and ignored Elizabeth.</p><p>“You know, Miss Darcy, I have been asking Mr. Bingley to sit down for a family dinner since he visited last autumn. Everyone in the neighborhood agrees there is no finer table in the county, although <em>some</em> may find it simple for their tastes, and we cannot compete with the cooks at Pemberley, but I am sure you will find it to your liking, as we will have three courses…” Mrs. Bennet was speaking rapidly in a kind voice to Georgiana.  Georgiana appeared relieved to not be able to fit any responses in as Mrs. Bennet prattled on, and she nodded politely where appropriate after recovering from the surprise of hearing her brother so reprimanded.</p><p>Elizabeth interrupted her mother’s effusions again by drawing Georgiana into a conversation about her stay and whether Netherfield was to her liking. Georgiana replied nervously to her question and seemed reticent in speaking with Elizabeth, but soon Elizabeth’s easy manners put her at ease. Elizabeth asked if the pianoforte and music selection at Netherfield was to her liking, and Georgiana had much to say on a piece she was currently practicing.</p><p>Georgiana’s eyes would move to her brother frequently. Elizabeth noted the concern on Georgiana’s face, and she cautiously looked towards Darcy. He had positioned himself near a window and was looking intently at something outside. Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment. He had barely looked at her since entering, and he did not seem at all incline to engage in conversation with her, despite having the perfect excuse to approach her while she spoke with Georgiana.</p><p>Elizabeth felt Georgiana watching her closely.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth, I must confess, I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance,” Georgiana said, dropping her voice.</p><p>Elizabeth smiled at her. “And I yours. Your brother speaks very highly of you.”</p><p>“He used to speak of you often. When he wrote to me last autumn, he often mentioned you,” Georgiana said quietly and with a shy smile. Elizabeth took note at Georgiana’s use of the past tense and looked down at her hands, before finding her strength for a witty retort.</p><p>“Surely only to remark on the impertinence of my behavior towards him. I am afraid I never passed by an opportunity to be disagreeable.</p><p>“Oh, no!” Georgiana said hurriedly. “Of course not, I did not mean to imply that he wrote critically of you…” Elizabeth let out a small laugh that cut Georgiana off. Elizabeth did not notice that at the sound of her laugh, Mr. Darcy turned away from the window to look at her.</p><p>“I am sorry, Miss Darcy, you are not familiar with my sense of humor. I am only teasing. I am sure his letters were a faithful recounting of his time in Hertfordshire.”</p><p>“Yes,” Georgiana seemed unsure of how to proceed, but she was also afraid she would not have another opportunity to speak to Miss Elizabeth. The other occupants of the room seemed engrossed in their own conversations or, in the case of Mr. Bennet and Mary, their books.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth, if you would allow me to speak freely for a moment,” Georgiana said. Elizabeth hesitated, but then assented that she may.</p><p>“My brother does not speak of me about his troubles, but I know something is amiss. I was surprised when he wanted to return to Hertfordshire. He has been acting so very strange since he returned from Kent and then most recently London. I hope that whatever argument you may have had…well, Mr. Bingley and I have discussed it, and we just both hope that whatever misunderstanding there is between you and my brother, that hopefully things can be put to right. Since my brother agreed to come to dinner, I hope we may all have a pleasant evening and perhaps the two of you could be friends again,” Georgiana stumbled over her words as she tried to convey her concern without thoroughly meddling in her brother’s business.</p><p>Elizabeth searched Georgiana’s eyes to try to puzzle out what Georgiana did or did not know. Elizabeth decided that Georgiana was simply a concerned sister, who saw her brother in distress and was using every bit of her courage to speak to the one person who may be able to relieve it.</p><p>“I assure you, Miss Darcy, that I bear no ill will to your brother. Quite the contrary. I wish only for his happiness,” she said, trying to reassure Georgiana with the truth of her feelings. “I fear things have become rather difficult between us in ways I hardly understand myself, but whatever I can do to reduce his distress, I will. And I am so pleased to finally meet you; I hope we be friends as well.”</p><p>Georgiana smiled at her sadly.</p><p>“You are very kind, Miss Elizabeth.”</p><p>“Miss Darcy, I already like you a great deal, so there is no need to attempt to inflate my opinion of you further through flattery,” Elizabeth said smilingly. Georgiana recognized this as a tease and smiled back. Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy was still watching them intently, and she was determined not to allow it to bother her. She remembered how during his first visit to Hertfordshire, his always looked at her severely. Where was the man who walked with her almost daily? Where was the amiability she was beginning to grow accustomed to? Without daring to look at him, she could not even gauge his reaction to the loudness of Kitty and Lydia, who were now loudly gossiping with their mother. </p><p>Fortunately, they were interrupted by Mrs. Hill, who informed Mrs. Bennet that dinner was ready. There was little ceremony to enter the dining room for a small family dinner, and Elizabeth had sat down before she realized that Mr. Darcy was the last person into the room and the only empty seat, at Mrs. Bennet’s righthand, was right next to her. Georgiana had taken a position of honor to Mr. Bennet’s right, and Elizabeth was pleased to see Mary sit next to her. Mary would be a much more suitable dinner conversationalist than the exuberant Lydia or Kitty, who were across from Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley sat in between Elizabeth and Jane, who was at Mr. Bennet’s immediate left. </p><p>Mrs. Bennet made some comments to try to draw out a compliment or two from Mr. Darcy, who obliged her with an observation on the fineness of the dining room and how the table was set. Elizabeth heard the frost in his tone, though it went unremarked upon by Mrs. Bennet. Once she was satisfied with Mr. Darcy’s praise, Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to Lydia for conversation, leaving Mr. Darcy to enjoy his meal in silence. Elizabeth thought he may do just that, until he finally spoke.</p><p>“I was surprised to see you here, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, careful to not be overheard. Elizabeth turned her head to him, concerned. She marveled for a minute at how he truly had not the faintest clue she was a Bennet sister. She took a bite of her food to have a reason not to respond immediately. Darcy was not dissuaded.</p><p>“Bingley has called on Miss Bennet frequently, and I did not realize she was the elder sister you spoke of. Why did you not mention it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Elizabeth finally responded, ignoring his question. She took a sip of her wine. “I am pleased to see Mr. Bingley renew his acquaintance with my sister. Jane enjoys Mr. Bingley’s company very much,” she said.</p><p>“Does she?” Mr. Darcy was taking great pains to remain concentrated on the food in front of him, but he had a faraway look in his eye, and he did not seem at all interested in speaking about Jane and Bingley, although he did take a moment to glance in their direction just as Jane was laughing lightly at something humorous Mr. Bingley had said. Mr. Bingley looked delighted to elicit such response, as he continued with the story he was regaling that end of the table with. Elizabeth struggled to think of something to change the subject. She glanced down the table to Georgiana, who was holding up quite well speaking about music to Mary, with an occasional observation from Mr. Bennet.  Finally thinking of something to say, she asked Mr. Darcy about a book he had mentioned once during their walks, but his response was so curt that she stopped trying to speak to him altogether.</p><p>To Elizabeth’s horror, Lydia and Kitty’s volume increased with every glass of wine that they were allowed, and Mr. Darcy would only lift his eyes from him meal to glance annoyingly at them and then down to Georgiana, as if to make sure the Bennet sisters were not offending her sensibilities. Georgiana gave him a sympathetic smile but seemed content enough with her dinner companions.</p><p>Elizabeth grew annoyed as she watched his critical eye occasionally skim the table before looking lost in thought. Surely, he was thinking of all the ways her family was vulgar and unsophisticated.  At the thought, Elizabeth put the glass of wine she was holding down rather forcefully. If Mr. Darcy had come to be sullen, judgmental, and indifferent, then he should have not come at all. No sooner had the thought struck her did she realize that perhaps he was feeling uncomfortable. She wondered if he was beginning to remember their time together. Nervously, she glanced at him.</p><p>Mr. Darcy took this glance as an invitation. “Miss Elizabeth, were you in Hertfordshire last autumn?” he asked. Elizabeth was not prepared for such a direct inquiry.</p><p>“I am often in London visiting my aunt and uncle,” she looked away in her attempt to avoid the question without being entirely deceitful and tried to seem occupied with stabbing a fork forcefully into a potato on her plate.</p><p>“<em>That</em> is not an answer,” Mr. Darcy replied. He put his knife down, and it clanged loudly against his plate. Elizabeth felt the eyes of the table turn in their direction.</p><p>“Pardon me,” he said stiffly. The family returned to their own conversations, and Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth returned to their tense silence.</p><p>“Why did we not become acquainted until this visit?” he asked her, as if there had been no lapse in their conversation. Before she could reply, the next course arrived, and she turned to force Mr. Bingley to allow her into his conversation. She would apologize to Jane later. Elizabeth avoided Mr. Darcy’s thoughtful eyes during the rest of the meal.</p><p>After dinner, the party retreated to the parlor to enjoy coffee, tea, conversation, and cards if Lydia was able to convince enough people to play. Elizabeth sat near Georgiana and Jane, and they began a pleasant conversation. Elizabeth engaged animatedly in the conversation to avoid Mr. Darcy speaking to her. He hovered near them, his eyes rarely leaving Elizabeth.</p><p>Lydia and Kitty were giggling conspiratorially in the corner, and soon the object of their mischief became clear when Lydia yelled, rather rudely, across the room.</p><p>“Mr. Bingley, the neighborhood still speaks of the ball you hosted at Netherfield. It was such delightful fun, I do hope you consider having another one during your stay.”</p><p>“Do host another ball, Mr. Bingley!” Kitty added.</p><p>“Lydia, Kitty.” Elizabeth warned, “You cannot ask Mr. Bingley for a ball every time he is in town. Pay them no mind, Mr. Bingley.”</p><p>“I must agree with Miss Lydia on one count, Miss Elizabeth. I have never had a more pleasant evening in my life,” Mr. Bingley said amiably. Elizabeth wanted to shake her head at him, or nudge his foot, but he was too far away. She sensed Darcy stiffen to her right as the conversation continued.</p><p>“Such a wonderful evening! Such fine company! I am sure you and Miss Bingley spared no expense. Netherfield was truly at all its glory. It would be very fine for you to settle in the country, Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.</p><p>“I found the ball rather dull,” Mary interjected, and no one paid her any attention except Georgiana, who gave her a sympathetic look. Georgiana was seated directly next to Mrs. Bennet, who despite having her fair share of daughters, enjoyed the opportunity to mother another one. </p><p>“Oh, and all the officers—” Kitty began. Elizabeth should have known. People who have little in common except one shared experience always delight in reminiscing together. She should not be surprised that Mr. Bingley’s last visit was now a topic of conversation. She had been thoroughly embarrassed at the ball so was not inclined to speak of it on that account, but the first reason for her panic was because of the distress the conversation was causing Mr. Darcy. Out of the corner of her eye, he could see him looking at her in confusion. The space between his eyebrows had a charming wrinkle. It was time to intervene.</p><p>“Perhaps we should have some music! Mary, perhaps you may indulge us with—” Elizabeth began but Mary did not need even a complete invitation before she was at the piano ready to, in her mind, impress the room with her immense talent. Elizabeth had hoped Mary would choose a loud tune that would make continued conversation between more than two closely sat people difficult, and Mary did not disappoint. The piece was a loud but far too grave for evening entertainment.</p><p>This distraction served its purpose in stifling the conversation, and Elizabeth encouraged Mary to play another song. Unfortunately, this time Mary’s tune was a little lighter. Some conversation resumed around the room. Elizabeth rose to obtain more tea. As she busied herself with preparing her tea, she heard Mrs. Bennet addressing Georgiana.</p><p>“Yes, the officers made for fine partners. Miss Darcy, you would have enjoyed it thoroughly. There were many fine gentlemen, and none of my girls wanted for partners. Well except Mary, but she never dances. Mr. Bingley danced with Jane two sets. He opened the ball with her, as was only right! Of course, Mr. Darcy even singled my Lizzy out for a dance, and as you know he detests the very idea of dancing. But no one could resist the temptation at such a ball, and even my Lizzy looked well, although she was nothing next to my dear Jane…” Mrs. Bennet kept speaking, but Elizabeth was too distracted to listen. Her cup rattled against the saucer.</p><p>She looked askance to Mr. Darcy, who to her horror, was now paying close attention to Mrs. Bennet’s words unlike he ever had before. Why did that man choose to not drown her mother’s voice out now? The more he listened; the less Elizabeth could read on his face. He was retreating behind the fortress of a neutral expression. Georgiana was riveted by Mrs. Bennet story; her brother had left for London the day after the ball and had written such a short missive, so she had never heard any of the details. Elizabeth turned to face Mr. Darcy directly. Their eyes met.</p><p>Mr. Darcy began rubbing his forehead as he grimaced.</p><p>“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, alarmed. She set down her tea and went to him while Georgiana excused herself from Mrs. Bennet to approach her brother.</p><p>“I am fine. It is just a sudden headache,” he said, waving them both away.</p><p>“Perhaps we should leave,” Georgiana offered.</p><p>“Yes,” Mr. Darcy agreed. He looked at Elizabeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze searching. Elizabeth said nothing, as what she needed to say could only be said in private.</p><p>Mr. Bingley was reluctantly rising and thanking Mrs. Bennet for a lovely evening. Hill was calling for their carriage. Mrs. Bennet began protesting them leaving so early, insisting Mr. Darcy was fine. Georgiana and Mr. Darcy bid everyone goodnight. Elizabeth’s eyes never left Mr. Darcy, but he did not look at her.</p><p>Elizabeth followed them into the hall where they were gathering their things. Jane and Mr. Bingley were going to take a moment to say their good nights, and Mrs. Bennet was more than willing to allow them a little privacy in the hall. Elizabeth seized the opportunity to escort the Darcys out.</p><p>“Miss Elizabeth, it was very pleasant to meet you, and I do hope I can call on you,” Georgiana said. Her brother was already outside, waiting in the cool evening air for Georgiana.</p><p>Elizabeth replied in kind and followed Georgiana outside. Darcy handed Georgiana into the carriage. He stood away from the door and near the back of the carriage to wait for Bingley, who was still speaking with Jane.</p><p>“Mr. Darcy. I can see you are distressed,” Elizabeth began, unsure of how to broach the conversation, but wanting to offer some comfort to him before they parted. She wanted desperately to know what he remembered.</p><p>“There is no need for you to concern yourself with my present state, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied so only she could hear. Stricken, Elizabeth stepped back from him. He realized how harsh his words had sounded, and he raised his arm as if to touch her before hastily allowing it fall limply at his side. He rubbed his fingers together, fidgeting.</p><p>“Many women have attempted to insinuate themselves with Georgiana to get to me, even going as far as to exaggerate or completely fabricate an intimacy between them and myself to encourage Georgiana’s good will,” Mr. Darcy began.</p><p>At the accusation that her mother was exaggerating their acquaintance, Elizabeth’s resolution to honor his request was tested. She wanted to throw his ridiculous letter in his face, tell him he <em>had</em> in fact singled her out for a dance, which had annoyed her greatly at the time because he was the reason Mr. Wickham was not in attendance, and there he was now, in a most ungentlemanlike manner, accusing her mother of lying simply because he could not regulate his own impulsive feelings to prevent himself from doing something incredibly reckless like <em>erasing his own memories</em>. Insufferable man!</p><p>“Mr. Darcy!” she responded angrily, but he shook his head.</p><p>“Please, allow me to finish. I would never do any relation of yours the dishonor of believing they would act in such a manner.” Darcy continued quickly. “But you must have an explanation for your mother’s story, Miss Elizabeth. How can I have singled you out for a dance at Netherfield when you were <em>not</em> in Hertfordshire last autumn? When I have only known you less than a fortnight?” his voice was barely above a whisper, and Elizabeth heard the hint of panic within it. She studied his piercing blue eyes, puzzled, hoping she would somehow alleviate his present and ever increasing confusion and distress.</p><p>Elizabeth hesitated, and briefly considered allowing him to leave with the belief that her mother lied, to spare him the truth. How Elizabeth detested the way he and his situation unsettled her and made her question her every word. This charade was not sustainable. “I <em>was</em> in Hertfordshire last autumn,” Elizabeth began. “We did---” </p><p>“Let us away, Darcy! Good night, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley said as he arrived to the carriage. Bingley’s voice startled Darcy and Elizabeth. They had been leaning in far too closely to whisper to each other, and Bingley’s sudden presence caused them to snap away from each other.</p><p>Mr. Bingley, completely unaware of the important conversation he interrupted, and looking very pleased indeed with whatever had been said between him and Jane, nearly jumped into the carriage. He settled himself across from Georgiana. Darcy looked helplessly from the carriage to Elizabeth, and then resigned himself to leaving. He bowed to her.</p><p>“Tomorrow. <em>Meet me at Oakham Mount</em>,” Elizabeth whispered to Darcy as his head dipped. He looked up at her, struck, as if he wanted to say something, but then he entered the carriage without another word.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am celebrating my birthday this weekend, and I am so pleased to be spending some of my time finalizing the last chapters of this story. It'll be all posted before the end of the month (keeping on a weekly update schedule)! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you are all healthy and safe! Darcy's letter to Elizabeth is in Chapter 11 if you need a refresher. It is referenced but not reproduced in full in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Meet me at Oakham Mount</em>.</p>
<p>The words echoed in Darcy's head during the three-mile ride to Netherfield. Darcy spoke once to reassure his companions that he would be perfectly well after he retired for the evening. Bingley and Georgiana did not attempt to engage him in further conversation, although both looked at him with concern and uncertainty. He was grateful for their understanding, as he was occupied by his own thoughts. When Elizabeth spoke her parting words, he felt a tightening of his chest, as if his heart physically ached at the thought of parting with her. This feeling had not been there during their walks.</p>
<p>He was now troubled, confused, and feeling increasingly wretched for reasons he did not understand. Once Elizabeth had said she was in Hertfordshire last autumn, his mind went to the apothecary who had attempted to speak to him at Darcy house. Could he have been telling the truth? Had he done something to forget Elizabeth? Is this why his heart was compelled to return to Hertfordshire? He wracked his mind to try to <em>remember</em> anything from the autumn. The visit was a blur, which disturbed him greatly and seemed an even further indication that something was amiss. Why had this not bothered him before?</p>
<p>He remembered arriving to Netherfield. He remembered a crowded assembly. He remembered Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet dancing. He remembered Bingley encouraging him to dance, but he could not remember if he did. He remembered riding with Bingley through the estate many times and writing letters to his sister. He remembered frequently moving to different rooms and suggesting outdoor activities to avoid Caroline Bingley. He remembered Miss Bennet being ill…</p>
<p>His thoughts were interrupted by the carriage's abrupt stop at Netherfield. He exited the carriage and assisted Georgiana wordlessly. It was late, and they were all willing to retire. He escorted his sister to her room and reassured her of his health before retiring to his own chambers.</p>
<p>It would be impossible for him to sleep while his mind was a tempest of emotions. Thankfully, Bingley stocked the sitting area of his chambers with fine brandy. Darcy uncorked the decanter to pour himself a hearty cup before sitting down.</p>
<p>He nursed his drink in the light of the dim candles and moonlight. His mind was filled with Elizabeth. Her voice reading to him. Her figure at the summit of Oakham Mount.</p>
<p><em>Meet me at Oakham Mount</em>.</p>
<p>Darcy closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his palm.</p>
<p>It was not the first time she had spoken those words to him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Then let us have a proper goodbye. We can pretend we had one. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy. Remember me. Remember me. Meet me at-</em>
</p>
<p>What was a dream and what was a memory? The feel of her hand in his. A flash of Elizabeth glancing up at him from a piano in Rosings. A fragment of a conversation inside an apothecary shop. A ballroom in golden light. The memories were wisps, and Darcy thought his heart might burst from the longing that passed through him.</p>
<p>Darcy's eyes opened and he stood abruptly, leaving his glass on the table beside him. He grabbed one of the candles in its holder and walked out of his chamber. He walked briskly down the halls of Netherfield, feeling a sense of familiarity in his haste, and opened the double doors that were between the guest wing and area where Bingley entertained guests. He walked the hallways and rooms, which were only lit by the moonlight seeping through some of the uncovered windows and his own candle. The darkness bothered him little. He came to a stop in one room. The air in the room was stale from lack of use. Darcy stilled as he observed the room with the dim lighting available.</p>
<p>
  <em>It is your turn to say something, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, now you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I am perfectly happy to oblige. Please advise me of what you would like most to hear.</em>
</p>
<p>He took one step and then turned, following the motions of their dance. He remembered dancing with Elizabeth Bennet. He remembered his admiration for her, and his inability to stay away from her, despite his own misgivings about her and her family. Her family. As moments from the ball came back to him, he recalled his disapproval of their behavior. It was a stark contrast to his feeling towards them tonight at dinner. He had found them loud and unrefined to be sure, and her mother clearly did not favor him and took no pains to obscure it, and her younger sisters were silly, but they had been kind and welcoming to Georgiana. He remembered Elizabeth had challenged him during their dance, yet he could not recall the nature of their conversation.</p>
<p>He was feeling overwhelmed. The apothecary outside Darcy House whom he had so rudely dismissed had been trying to tell him something. He had done something to make himself forget someone he loved, the man had said. Had he, or did he <em>love</em> Elizabeth? He felt a great deal of admiration and respect for her that had grown on their walks together but could the unnamable feeling in the pit of his stomach be love?</p>
<p>Darcy left the room, returning quickly but quietly to his chambers. He finished the brandy he had abandoned, pacing back and forth in his room in thought. He poured himself another cup and drank that too, leaning on the fireplace mantle as he did so. Mr. Darcy believed himself a reasonable man. If he had done <em>something</em> to make himself forget Elizabeth, it would not be without reason. What had <em>she</em> done to warrant it?</p>
<p>No sooner had the question crossed his mind, did a flash of a drenched Elizabeth cross his mind. She was looking at him with such scorn.</p>
<p>
  <em>Your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others…</em>
</p>
<p>He could remember no more of her words as a rush of disbelief and bitterness filled him. She hated him. What had prompted her speech, why she was so angry, he did not know. His emotions were a tempest. Affection, anger, anguish, all one inside him. Darcy finished his drink, hoping in vain it would numb him.</p>
<p>If she had said those dreadful things to him in the past, why had she been willing to see him? Why had she not spoken of their previous acquaintance? It suddenly occurred to him that she had looked distressed by his presence when he first met her at Oakham Mount. Perhaps she had merely been enduring his company as opposed to enjoying it as he had hers and was eagerly waiting for him to leave Hertfordshire.</p>
<p>The deluge of emotions inside him alarmed Darcy. He had never <em>felt</em> so much. These past days with Elizabeth had been a great comfort to him, and now the mere thought of her was invoking such misery. He knew now that whatever had transpired between them must have been meaningful. And unpleasant. If he could not be certain of her affections or intention towards him, he would not meet her with the same openness he had displayed as of late. He would steel himself against her and against whatever misguided emotions had led him to this misery to begin with.</p>
<p>He was anxious for Elizabeth to answer the questions he had and to help explain the many feelings within him and to clarify her opinion towards him. Darcy's sleep would be restless.</p>
<p>~-~</p>
<p>Elizabeth had risen just after dawn to make the long walk from Longbourn to Oakham Mount. He was waiting for her at the summit, alone, and dressed in such riding finery that she was taken aback, suddenly self-aware of the simple yellow morning dress she had selected primarily her ability to walk quickly in it.</p>
<p>When he heard her approach, he rose from the boulder he had been sitting on and bowed.</p>
<p>"Madam. I am here for whatever clarity you can provide."</p>
<p>His formality was disorienting. <em>He</em> was disorientating. Elizabeth never knew which Darcy she would encounter. She sighed, as if taking a deep breath before a plunge, and chose her words carefully before speaking.</p>
<p>"We were previously acquainted, Mr. Darcy. I was in Hertfordshire last autumn, and we spent some time in each other's company. This sounds impossible as I say it, but you had me erased from your memories. You wrote me a letter that may help you understand," she said. Elizabeth removed his letter from her pocket and held it up to him.</p>
<p>Darcy attempted to make the handwriting out from a distance but made no movement forward. She walked towards him slowly, extending her arm out to hand him the letter while maintaining her distance. Darcy grabbed the letter more forcefully than Elizabeth had anticipated. She felt her cheeks flush in agitation at his demeanor.</p>
<p>He read and reread its contents several times before glancing back up at Elizabeth, then away from her, then back to the letter and back to her. Elizabeth clasped her hands together and wrung her fingers in anticipation of his response. She could see the effort he was expending to school his features into a neutral expression, a habit she was familiar with from their previous encounters when he did not wish for others to know what he was thinking.</p>
<p>"What happened at our last meeting?" Darcy finally asked. Elizabeth hesitated, her mouth opening to speak, but she could not find her words.</p>
<p>"Madam, I beg you. I wrote '<em>I hope you can understand that the agony that continues to plague me since our last meeting leaves me no alternatives</em>.' What <em>exactly </em>happened at our last meeting?" Darcy asked again, his voice stern.</p>
<p>"We parted on unpleasant terms when we last saw each other in Kent this past April," Elizabeth replied quietly. Darcy said nothing, and Elizabeth took this as an invitation to continue. The words spilled out of her.</p>
<p>"You asked for my hand. I declined your offer in the most definite terms because you insulted me in every way imaginable. You spoke of the inferiority of my circumstance, the unsuitability of my family, and the impossibility of a match. You claimed your very character was called into question by condescending to me. I declined your offer, most passionately. My mind had already been set against you due to your manners and other misunderstandings. I could not, at the time, agree to be your wife with the circumstances as they were."</p>
<p>Whether the shock on Darcy's face was due to the improbability to Darcy that he had condescended to ask her or that she would refuse him, Elizabeth could not be sure. Her own apprehension was multifaceted. It caused her pain to think of his words, to know that is what he had thought of her, and she did not want to admit to the things she had said in return. She wanted desperately to reach out to him, to touch his arm and soothe his confusion and worries away. It was a few moments before he broke the silence between them.</p>
<p>"I was the last man in the world you could be prevailed upon to marry?" Darcy said softly.</p>
<p>Elizabeth surprisingly brightened at his words, "You remember?"</p>
<p>"I cannot be certain, Miss Elizabeth, but that is what came to mind. Is that what you said?" Darcy asked.</p>
<p>"Yes. That is what I said," Elizabeth saw hurt wash over his features. She wished she could take the words back, "I was so angry at you Mr. Darcy. With good reason. I had just been told you had separated Mr. Bingley from Jane, and I thought you had behaved cruelly towards Mr. Wickham—"</p>
<p>The more she spoke, the more tense he grew. She saw his countenance darken at the mention of Wickham's name, and Elizabeth stepped forward to him. He took a step back. His retreat wounded her more than she could have anticipated, and she rushed out more explanations.</p>
<p>"I was wrong about him. You explained the truth of the situation in another letter that you delivered to me. We do not need to speak more of it. I misplaced my trust in him in an eagerness to have my opinion of you confirmed." How Elizabeth hated Wickham—not just for what he had done to Georgiana, but for the way he had manipulated her and prejudiced her further against Mr. Darcy.</p>
<p>"I see. We have quite a history, then," he said simply.</p>
<p>"Mr. Darcy, I –" Elizabeth began.</p>
<p>"Why did I address you so informally in the letter?" Darcy questioned.</p>
<p>Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm. She had noticed that too, "I do not know, Sir. You had never taken the liberty prior to this letter."</p>
<p>"Miss Elizabeth. If not for this letter, which is clearly in my hand, and many other strange experiences and feelings I have had in the last weeks, I could not believe this to be true. But it all <em>must</em> be true. Last night, I remembered a ball, and you calling me selfish amongst some other choice words, but I feel as though much is incomplete in my mind. I know not what to think," he said. They were quiet. Finally, Elizabeth spoke.</p>
<p>"I cannot tell you the distress I have experienced upon reading your letter and knowing the pain and anguish I have caused. I have misunderstood you, and I hope you can find some comfort in knowing I have reflected a great deal on your character and understand now how wrong I was in my initial impression of you. I have greatly enjoyed the time we have spent together these past mornings."</p>
<p>"Why were you not honest with me before? You have had many opportunities to tell me the truth," Darcy said accusingly.</p>
<p>"Your letter begged me not to acknowledge our history, Mr. Darcy. I simply did what you asked out of," Elizabeth paused, trying to find the right word to describe her motivation. She blushed. "Out of <em>respect</em> for your wishes." She finished. It was not the right word, but she could not let herself say that it was out of <em>love</em>. She could not admit that when it seemed that whatever tentative friendship they had formed was collapsing all around her.</p>
<p>"You think I would not want to know that I was spending time with the same woman who rejected me? You are telling me now that <em>you</em> made your choice regarding <em>me</em> in <em>April</em> and for months I suffered greatly," Darcy waved the letter in his hand as evidence. "By not telling me the truth, you took away the ability for me to make <em>my</em> choices with my eyes wide open. What did you hope would come from this, Miss Elizabeth?"</p>
<p>"What did <em>you</em> hope would come from what <em>you</em> did?" Elizabeth responded, her ire welling up. Part of her wanted to be more understanding for his plight, but once her temper rose, it was difficult to manage it. One of her faults, she knew, but she could not help herself. "Did you not stop once to think of the impact of your actions? All of them. Not simply the drink, but what you did to Jane and Mr. Bingley. Do you remember that? What about how your disapproval of my family resulted in you insulting the woman you claim to love more than I have ever been insulted in my life. And then you come back here, and I must pretend that everything is fine, and that we can have this new beginning when <em>I knew </em>it was only going to be a matter of time until everything came apart. You are not the only one who has suffered, Mr. Darcy."</p>
<p>Darcy listened quietly to her speech, his astonishment written on his face. Finally, he spoke.</p>
<p>"I wish I'd never returned here," Darcy said.</p>
<p>Elizabeth felt as though she had been struck. She blinked several times, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill, before lifting her chin up defiantly.</p>
<p>"If that is how you feel," she replied, "then I can only again offer my apology for the distress I caused you. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy."</p>
<p>With that, she bowed her head and turned, walking rapidly away.</p>
<p>~-~</p>
<p>Darcy returned to Netherfield Hall, his pace quick, causing butlers to scramble to open the doors ahead of his march through the halls</p>
<p>"Bingley!" Darcy yelled, heading for family wing to rouse Bingley if he was not already awake.</p>
<p>"Fitzwilliam, what is the matter?"</p>
<p>Darcy glanced behind him and saw Georgiana walking down the stairs from the guest wing of the house.</p>
<p>"I need to speak to Bingley," Darcy said coldly. It was uncharacteristic of him to turn his ire on Georgiana, and he attempted to send her away.</p>
<p>"Brother, please tell me what is distressing you," Georgiana pleaded, ignoring his request to leave him alone and following him as he continued down the hall.</p>
<p>"Georgiana, there is nothing you can do to help me. I need to speak to Bingley," he repeated angrily.</p>
<p>"Darcy, what is all this noise?" Mr. Bingley said, his head poking out of one of the parlor rooms. His jovial countenance faltered at the sight of Darcy's glare.</p>
<p>"Did I ever write to you expressing a desire to never see Miss Elizabeth Bennet again?" Darcy asked. Bingley frowned.</p>
<p>"Why, yes, but—"</p>
<p>"Why did you bring me here once more?" Darcy said. He did not raise his voice, and this worried Georgiana more than if he had yelled. Darcy's hands were clasped behind his back, and one had was balled into a tight fist.</p>
<p>"I merely asked you to accompany me here as a friend, Darcy. I had to come back for Miss Bennet, to see if I still had a chance to make amends after leaving in November, at <em>your</em> persuasion, need I remind you-"</p>
<p>Darcy paced in front of Bingley, shaking his head when Bingley spoke. "Did I explain to you in this letter, why I did not want to see her?" Bingley began to recount his letter. Darcy had mentioned an apothecary and a drink that would erase his memories of Miss Elizabeth. Bingley's tone was one of disbelief at what he clearly thought was a ridiculous story. Darcy was unsurprised it matched what he had written to Elizabeth. This, however, was news to Georgiana, who had received a simple request but no explanation in a letter from her brother. She looked between Mr. Bingley and Fitzwilliam.</p>
<p>"I thought you were in jest or drinking, Darcy," Bingley said. "Surely, it could not be the case that you <em>forgot</em> Miss Elizabeth."</p>
<p>"Bingley, I do not remember writing to you, yet this matches what I wrote to Miss Elizabeth. I also do not remember writing any of that, but she showed me the letter."</p>
<p>"And you wrote to me," Georgiana said quietly. Darcy turned to look at her, confused.</p>
<p>"You knew about this?" Darcy asked.</p>
<p>"You did not tell me anything about a drink. You merely requested we no longer speak about Miss Elizabeth."</p>
<p>"How could you let me come here?" Darcy said, his voice pained. He regretted asking it as soon as Georgiana's eyes began welling up with tears.</p>
<p>"Fitzwilliam, I did not think…I do not know…"</p>
<p>"Darcy, you came here of your own accord," Bingley stepped in.</p>
<p>"Do you not understand, Bingley? I had no idea what I was walking into. I wanted…<em>want</em> nothing more to do with her. I was drawn here, and to her, but I realized something was greatly amiss when I saw her at Longbourn. Bingley, I did not remember any ball, I did not remember she was Miss Bennet's sister. I did not even realize how little I remember of my time at Netherfield. I do not even know what is true and what is not anymore. Evidently, I…I took the mixture because Miss Elizabeth rejected my offer of marriage in April." Darcy said. He had never shared such personal matters to anyone in such a manner, but he felt wildly desperate to understand the situation.</p>
<p>Darcy's words were met with silence. Georgiana was beginning to understand.</p>
<p>"You were wretched after you returned from Kent," Georgiana whispered.</p>
<p>"Was I?" Darcy said. His hand went to his head as fragmented memories returned to him. Nights drinking in the library. Ignoring Georgiana. More of Elizabeth's words to him and his to her in the shelter of a temple as rain fell around them. Now he could hear himself speaking of the inferiority of her connections. Darcy sighed.</p>
<p>"Yes, Fitzwilliam. I have never seen you that way before. I suspected that something bad had happened, but you would not talk to me. When you came back from London, you were different. It was as if…as if those months never happened. You were almost like your old self. But not quite."</p>
<p>Bingley looked from Darcy to Georgiana several times before speaking.</p>
<p>"Darcy, if I had known she had refused you, I would have taken this all seriously. I mean, it is incredible, I cannot believe that something could make memories disappear like that," Bingley spoke rapidly, causing Darcy's head to ache.</p>
<p>"But do you not see? It did not properly work," Darcy said, his voice rising. "I remembered Oakham Mount. I <em>was drawn here</em>. I have been meeting her nearly every day since our return to Hertfordshire. We have had several conversations, and I've accompanied her on morning walks, and she never spoke of <em>any</em> of it to me until today."</p>
<p>"You have been seeing her? Is that why you have been in such good humor in the mornings?" Bingley asked, astounded.</p>
<p>Darcy ignored him and continued, "And I remember the words she said to me when she declined my offer of marriage in the most uncertain terms. All this <em>potion</em> did was delay what I should have accepted then. She despises me, as she should." Darcy turned to walk away, when suddenly more of her words filled his mind.</p>
<p><em>That you've separated a young couple who loved each other</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>You could apologize to me, the real me, for what you said about my family, and you could reunite Mr. Bingley and Jane.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I will make everything right again, Miss Elizabeth. I must.</em>
</p>
<p>"Bingley," Darcy said, turning to Bingley suddenly. Even in his suffering, he had to make amends. "Miss Bennet loved you. I did not see it then because I did not know her character. I saw her regard for you while we dined yesterday, but I must be completely honest with you and tell you I judged incorrectly last fall. My incorrect judgment also played a role in myself and your sister not telling you Miss Bennet came to call in London. When Miss Elizabeth…when we spoke in Kent, one of the reasons she declined my suit was because of the pain I had caused her sister for the part I played in separating you from her. It was wrong of me, even though I thought I was acting in service of a friend, and I am sorry."</p>
<p>The color in Bingley's face heightened, and Darcy prepared himself for the harsh words he knew he deserved. Instead, a smile began to form at Bingley's face.</p>
<p>"Miss Elizabeth told you Miss Bennet loved me?"</p>
<p>Darcy nodded.</p>
<p>"Then…I was correct. I <em>knew</em> she loved me-you and Caroline—you made me doubt her. Even now, I see the same regard I saw then, but I thought if I misread her behavior then, how could I know she cares for me now—" Bingley was pacing in the hall, unable to bottle his energy, and his words were becoming jumbled in his excitement. "But, you say she loved me then, and she is behaving in the same manner now, which means…. What time is it? I must go to Longbourn."</p>
<p>Bingley was halfway down the hall when he stopped and turned back. "Darcy, forgive me. You must be feeling wretched. I should remain here. Let us have a drink. It is early, but the occasion calls for it."</p>
<p>Darcy shook his head at his offer, "No, Bingley. I would prefer to be alone, and I understand. I have delayed Miss Bennet's happiness long enough." Bingley looked relieved, as he did not think he could help his friend until his own heart was settled after this revelation. He took his leave of Miss Darcy and sprinted out the door. Darcy waited for Georgiana to leave him as well, but she remained at his side.</p>
<p>"I need to be alone, Georgiana," Darcy said and walked towards the library. Georgiana shook her head and followed him in.</p>
<p>"Brother, forgive me if I am overstepping, but I must say that being alone is what created this mess to begin with."</p>
<p>"No, I believe her rejection of me created this mess," he retorted, sitting despondently in a chair. His head was aching, and he had not the strength to hide his discomfort from his sister. He buried his face in his hands.</p>
<p>"You should go back to her."</p>
<p>"Georgiana, I cannot. I will not seek an attachment that is founded on such deceit."</p>
<p>"Is that what you believe? Truly?" Georgiana said, kneeling beside him. She rested a hand on his knee.</p>
<p>"Yes. No. I do not know <em>what</em> to believe. I feel as though this past week has been completely pretend…if she had only told me…"</p>
<p>"Would you have believed her? What if you had not remembered? Or worse, what if you were angry at her?" Georgiana said.</p>
<p>"I believe I have a right to be angry. The life I am living is not what I thought it was," Darcy said into his hands.</p>
<p>"I can only speak for my own behavior. You told me not to speak of Miss Elizabeth, so I did not. Do you fault me for my behavior as you fault her?"</p>
<p>Darcy lifted his head of his hands to look at Georgiana. He took her hand into both of his. "No, Georgie. I do not fault you," he sighed as he let go and reclined into the back of the chair.</p>
<p>"I feel as though I have no command of the situation, Georgie. I am unaccustomed to this. It frightens me that I could be drawn here without full knowledge as to why and then to find this out…It is as if I have had no say in any of this."</p>
<p>"When you return from your morning walks, you are content. I have never seen you as light as you have been. I thought it was the country air doing wonders for your health. If spending time with Miss Elizabeth, when you were only beginning to know her again, is the cause of it, then I do not think the time with her has been false or misspent. When you were visiting here before, you wrote of Miss Elizabeth," Georgiana added, smiling. Darcy looked at her, curious.</p>
<p>"Yes, Fitzwilliam. You wrote of her <em>often</em>. All wonderful things about her intelligence and wit and kindness in tending to Miss Bennet while she was ill. It was not accident that brought you back here. <em>Something</em> called for you to return, and you <em>chose</em> to return. To find her. And you have chosen to spend time with her, how many times? I think you have been more in command of the situation than you believe," Georgiana patted his knee reassuringly one final time before standing to leave.</p>
<p>"Georgiana?" Darcy called when she reached the door.</p>
<p>"Yes, brother?"</p>
<p>"Why did you never speak to me about the letter I gave you?"</p>
<p>"Because I love you, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you would know what was best for you. It may have been an error, and it would have been better to speak directly with you, but I love you far too much to intentionally cause you distress. I imagine someone else may have been of a similar mind with similar reasons," Georgiana said pointedly.</p>
<p>Darcy managed a small smile at her, wondering when his younger sister had become so wise, and she left the library, closing the door behind her. Her words certainly gave him many things to consider, not the least of which was that he may have let his anger and confusion get the better of him when speaking to Elizabeth earlier. He suddenly regretted the words he had spoken in anger.</p>
<p>Darcy groaned. Why had he made everything difficult? Elizabeth had not been deceitful. She had been kind, gentle, and indulgent of him since his return to Hertfordshire, even after the things he had said to her. Even after he had done something so impossibly reckless as trying to erase her from his memories. The more he remembered of their time together, even his dreadful proposal, the more he felt a fog lift and beneath it was his love and devotion to her.</p>
<p>There was nothing worse than living without Elizabeth Bennet in his life, of this he was now certain. He thought of her turning and walking away from him this morning. Had he finally lost her?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter to go! Looking forward to reading your reactions!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Let us not burden our remembrances with</p><p>A heaviness that's gone.</p><p><em>The Tempest</em> (5.1.205-206)</p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 16</strong>
</p><p>It had been two days since the dinner at Longbourn and one full day since Elizabeth's last volatile morning meeting with Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth spent the day restless as it was the last day for Mr. and Miss Darcy to call on the Bennets as was proper after a hosted dinner. Elizabeth was the only person in Longbourn agonizing over the appearance of the Darcy's, as the whole house had been in an uproar since yesterday for a much more pleasant reason.</p><p>Not long after Elizabeth had returned from the heated final meeting with Mr. Darcy did Mr. Bingley call and ask to speak with Jane alone. Elizabeth rejoiced in her sister's happiness while tending to her own wounds. She felt the weight of what she thought was the permanent end of Mr. Darcy's good opinion of her, and it pained her knowing he was in Hertfordshire yet wanted nothing more to do with her. She steeled herself for the icy interaction they would inevitably have.</p><p>The Bennet women occupied themselves in the parlor waiting for their callers. Jane and Mrs. Bennet were discussing wedding preparations. Mary and Elizabeth worked on their embroidery. Lydia had taken up drawing during her convalescence for her sprained ankle and was currently sketching a picture of…well, Elizabeth could not tell exactly what she was sketching. Kitty was sighing in exasperation as she struggled to get a new ribbon just right on her bonnet.</p><p>It was the closest scene to tranquility the Bennet household could produce, until Lydia angrily scratched out the drawing she was working on, cried out in frustration and flipped the page over to begin anew, and Mrs. Bennet began insisting loudly to Jane she needed at least a month and a half to plan a wedding breakfast suitable for a man of five thousand a year.</p><p>Then, Hill announced the arrival of Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Darcy. Startled, Elizabeth pricked her finger with her needle. She sucked on her finger quickly to stop the bleeding, just as the guests entered the parlor.</p><p>Elizabeth, and her courage, rose. She would <em>not</em> behave in a way detrimental to Mr. Bingley and Jane's happiness, she would <em>not</em> offend Miss Darcy as she had no fault for the troubles between her and her brother, and Elizabeth was determined to be civil to Mr. Darcy, mostly to show him that she could move past their entanglement with fortitude. Their call need only last a quarter of an hour.</p><p>Mrs. Bennet was in raptures to see Mr. Bingley, and she motioned for him to sit next to her and Jane to join her in convincing Jane there needed to be at least six weeks for preparations.</p><p>Elizabeth was interested to see how the ever-agreeable Mr. Bingley would manage his own desires to wed Jane quickly, whatever Jane's wishes were, and his inclinations to please the strong personalities around him like Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth could not linger on their conversation long though, as she made room on the couch so that Miss Darcy could sit between her and Mary. That left Mr. Darcy to sit at the chair nearest Kitty's table strewn with ribbons and her bonnet. He looked mildly curious at Kitty's method of forcing ribbon every which way.</p><p>Elizabeth caught his eyes. He met her gaze intently, his face wearing the now familiar mask he wore in company, except for the crease on his forehead that grew the longer he looked at her. Elizabeth looked away to Miss Darcy and joined the conversation with her and Mary.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy looks at <em>you</em> a great deal, Lizzy," Lydia said, throwing down her sketchbook while joining them on the couch next to Mary.</p><p>"Lydia, please," Elizabeth said, her eyes widening in reproach. Luckily, Lydia's attention span was short enough to spare Elizabeth more embarrassment on that front. Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy from the corner of her eye, and to her horror saw Kitty had convinced him to hold the bonnet up so she had both hands free to tie a perfectly straight bow. Darcy looked uncomfortable but not entirely put off, and even said something to Kitty that Elizabeth could not quite hear. Kitty looked somewhere between terrified and surprised that Mr. Darcy would speak to her, and Elizabeth was sure it was the only words he had ever spoken to any of her younger sisters, but Kitty decided that whatever he had suggested had merit, and she began adding a second ribbon.</p><p>Lydia turned to Miss Darcy. "Tell me about London, Miss Darcy. I am sure you must meet with the most gallant men at grand balls every night there. Papa will not take us to town, and Jane and Lizzy do not share their invitations to our Uncle's—" Lydia took the opportunity to glare at Elizabeth, who was too embarrassed by her speech to do anything but stare.</p><p>"I…I do not attend balls, Miss Lydia. I am not out yet, you see," Georgiana replied quietly.</p><p>"Not <em>out</em>? But you must be at least my age, and <em>I </em>have been out since two summers ago."</p><p>Elizabeth saw Darcy's eyes widen at this, his eyebrows arching upwards slightly. Kitty pulled on the ends of the bow to get it straight, drawing his attention back to their project.</p><p>"Patience in abundance is an admirable trait, Miss Darcy," Mary offered. "It is much better to delay the attentions of members of the dominant sex until young ladies are better prepared to guard against them."</p><p>"I think that wise, Miss Mary," Georgiana said thoughtfully. Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, who suddenly looked sad.</p><p>Lydia began talking of all the country dances and balls she had attended and the redcoats whose company she most enjoyed. Elizabeth's face colored, nervous that Lydia would mention Wickham and keenly aware of how different Lydia's manners were to Georgiana's. If only Lydia would ever listen to her and Jane. At least Lydia was speaking instead of Captain Denny, who was a great favorite of hers. She heard Georgiana giggle at something Lydia said that caused Mary to roll her eyes, and Elizabeth was relieved. Lydia was not completely offending Miss Darcy.</p><p>"I think I would enjoy a ball very much, if there are friends there. Perhaps we may all attend one together in town, when I am out?" Georgiana said shyly. Lydia's screech of delight was very unladylike, but it only caused Georgiana to laugh, and then Lydia began talking of how she would certainly meet a dashing young man to whisk her away from Longbourn if she went to London. Mary looked thoroughly annoyed at the turn of conversation, perhaps equally frustrated by Lydia's behavior, if for different reasons than Elizabeth.</p><p>Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, who was now unabashedly watching them. Kitty had relieved him from assisting her to try on her bonnet. He cleared his throat and turned to lean towards the couch. Elizabeth waited for him to retract Georgiana's invitation, as he would have the full right to do, and she actually wished he would do it as the thought of Lydia exposing herself at a ball while in association with the Darcy's was too much for Elizabeth to bear. Instead, Mr. Darcy was looking at his sister with concern.</p><p>"Do you wish to be out soon, Georgiana? I had thought, since…well I thought you may need more time." he asked. Georgiana seemed surprised by his question. Elizabeth watched, fascinated. He spoke to Georgiana tenderly, and looked at his sister with such love and affection in his eyes. A look she had been familiar with, she now realized, though she had never read it accurately.</p><p>"Yes, brother. Miss Lydia makes them sound much more exciting than you ever have," Georgiana teased, easing the tension his question had raised for those who understood the origin of his concern for her. Mr. Darcy looked amazed, then smiled.</p><p>"I need to mind your company more. You are reminding me of Miss Elizabeth, and I receive my fair share of teasing from her as it is," he said. Elizabeth looked at him, surprised at the intimacy of his gentle bantering, but he appeared to regret what he had said, and his smile faded from his face. He rose, excusing himself from Kitty, and walked to look out the window in the far corner of the room.</p><p>Elizabeth was not sure what she had expected. He had been civil to her sisters, despite the reservations she knew he held about their usual behavior. She could see his discomfort through the tension in his shoulders, but he bore it well enough. Elizabeth realized with some confusion that this was Mr. Darcy exerting some effort. A great deal of effort, in fact, and she could not imagine why he would do so after the way they had last parted.</p><p>Tea had been called for, and Mary and Elizabeth busied themselves with making sure their guests had their tea. Mary had handed Elizabeth a cup, and with a knowing look glanced from her to Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth stared at her and wondered what her sister was thinking. Mary wore a small smile as she turned to speak to Miss Darcy and Lydia again.</p><p>Elizabeth held the cup and saucer and called over to Mr. Darcy, who was still paying close attention to his view from the window.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth began stiffly. He turned to look at her, and the look in his eyes unsettled her. He seemed so forlorn. "I do not know how you take tea," she stated simply. He contemplated her for a minute before a slight smile formed on his lips.</p><p>"With one lump of sugar," he replied.</p><p>Elizabeth dutifully prepared the tea and walked over to hand it to him. With effort, she ignored when their fingertips brushed against each other and turned swiftly to return across the room to the couch, but his voice stopped her.</p><p>"I thank you, Miss Elizabeth. The hospitality of you and your family is most welcome. Truly," Mr. Darcy said, his words carefully chosen, hsi voice low, and Elizabeth could tell his sincerity. She searched his eyes for answers to unasked questions.</p><p>"You puzzle me," she said quietly.</p><p>"Please allow me to—"</p><p>Mr. Darcy was interrupted by Mr. Bingley's voice rising above Mrs. Bennet's. Both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were startled, their attention drawn to the other side of the room.</p><p>"Mrs. Bennet, I will have to insist on following our wishes. Three weeks is plenty of time, and I am sure a skilled hostess as yourself will rise to the challenge," Mr. Bingley said, smiling rather charmingly at Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth smiled as Mrs. Bennet was completely taken in by Mr. Bingley, and she could do nothing but concur when presented with such flattery.</p><p>"Oh Mr. Bingley, you are too kind. It is settled then," Mrs. Bennet responded. Elizabeth saw Mr. Bingley give Jane a knowing look, which caused Jane to smile. Elizabeth was pleased Mr. Bingley had taken Jane's wishes into consideration and had not been cowed by her mother. It would not do to set a precedent of obliging Mrs. Bennet always, and Mr. Bingley had managed it in his own way.</p><p>The moment between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth passed, and Elizabeth sat down before he could continue.</p><p>The Netherfield party did not leave until the full half-hour passed. Elizabeth was attentive to Miss Darcy but avoided speaking to Mr. Darcy again, and he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. Elizabeth sighed and resigned herself to this new dynamic of careful avoidance and civil exchanges when necessary. It was for the best.</p><p>OoO</p><p>At the first sign of light of the following day, Darcy set out to the base of Oakham Mount, hoping to encounter Elizabeth somewhere along the way. After calling on the Bennet's at Longbourn, he hoped he had done enough to show he was willing to put in effort to be civil to her relatives and softened his opinions about them. He had corrected his error with Bingley, and he knew he had much to do in the way of acting more open with those not in his own family, but at the very least he hoped she saw his willingness to change for the better. One day was not enough, Darcy knew, but it was a start.</p><p>He had woken with a jolt that morning, recollecting something important. He had <em>tried</em> to stop it. Losing his memories. He remembered the despair he felt, or dreamt, at the thought of losing her that night. It steeled his resolve to know that he had not given up on her entirely, even on that night. He knew he could not lose her again without a real attempt at mending the fissure between them.</p><p>Darcy walked the distance from Netherfield, needing the exercise and time to prepare how he was going to throw himself at her mercy by declaring himself once more. He someone knew he would find her, just as he always had. She was ahead on the path, wearing a coat and a morning dress, with her hair hastily arranged underneath her bonnet.</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth," he called once he saw her. She stilled at his voice and turned.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy, there are not two people who have less to say to each other than ourselves. I cannot beg your forgiveness anew for being less than forthcoming with you. Indeed, I acted in accordance with your wishes. I do not need to repeat how this situation brought great distress to those who care about you, and we simply need to cease whatever this is," Elizabeth said, motioning between the two of them. "It is highly improper," she stated plainly.</p><p>Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it as Elizabeth continued. He marveled at her ability to make him the most verbose he has ever been with anyone and also render him speechless.</p><p>"There is no more to say. Your visit yesterday showed me that we can endure each other's company for the sake of your friend and my sister, but you have all of Hertfordshire to enjoy for a morning stroll. Leave me this one hill, at least. I bid you good day," Elizabeth proceeded to march up to the summit, moving at a fast pace spurred on by her hurt and anger.</p><p>Did she always walk so briskly? His long legs gave him an advantage, but he still needed to move rapidly to pursue her. The ease with which he was catching up served to annoy Elizabeth further, and she picked up her speed.</p><p>"Do you count yourself among them?" Darcy asked as he followed her.</p><p>"Pardon me?" she replied.</p><p>"Do you count yourself among the people who care for me?"</p><p>Elizabeth stopped and turned to look at him angrily, "How can I answer that question when I have been the source of your pain, and that is all you seem to remember or care about?" She turned again and ran as fast as her dress would allow her up the mount. Her bonnet fell back and hung from her neck by its ribbon, but she did not attempt to restore it.</p><p>He allowed her the head start before walking briskly up. They had an impeccable view of the sun peeking its beams over the horizon. Darcy spoke as he approached her, "If you are angry with me for how I behaved at our last meeting here, you should know I have come to apologize. I regretted my behavior soon after. I did not keep my temper in check, and I was confused and upset. I am sorry for the harsh words I spoke, especially because they are far from the truth of my feelings. I do not regret coming back to Hertfordshire, and I hope I showed that to you yesterday."</p><p>Darcy's heart was rapidly beating in his ears as he moved towards Elizabeth, who had reached the summit. She did not turn when he stopped behind her. They were close enough that he would have to lift his arm very little to touch her if he wanted to. And how he wanted to. He continued, heartened when she did not send him away again.</p><p>"You are right to be angry. I assure you, the reproaches you can offer are not as great as the reproaches I offer myself. I have behaved selfishly, indeed, I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice though not in principle. I am now trying to correct that impulse. I have come here to beg your forgiveness and to tell you I do not <em>just</em> remember Kent. I remember more and more, Miss Elizabeth. Yes, your rejection of me and the words you said, but I now remember with disgust what I said to provoke your response," he said, speaking rapidly over her as she took a breath in to interrupt, "I remembered my part in separating Bingley from your sister, and I told him after you and I spoke that my observations were wrong then and that I now believe Miss Bennet cares deeply for him," Darcy explained. This caused Elizabeth to turn her head to the side, but she did not face him or meet his eyes directly, choosing instead to look off to the distance.</p><p>"And that is why he came to ask for her hand?"</p><p>"I believe my words provided a little reassurance, but he acted on his own long-standing feelings."</p><p>"I thank you for offering the encouragement to him, sir. As you saw, it has made my sister very happy indeed."</p><p>"I do not seek your gratitude, Miss Elizabeth. It would have been difficult for us to begin anew based on what little I remembered at first, but I have since remembered many wonderful things- feelings, moments. I remember our conversations at Netherfield. I remember the <em>way</em> I felt when I saw you arrive to tend to Miss Bennet during her illness." Darcy took an audible breath and smiled as he continued, "Your hem was muddy, your eyes brightened. I do not believe I had ever seen someone so effortlessly lovely as you. I remember your courage at Rosings in the face of the most uncivil behavior from my Aunt." Darcy's right hand slowly reached for her left. Their fingertips touched lightly, and when she did not move her hand away, he dared to take her hand fully in his.</p><p>"I remember <em>this</em>. The feel of your hand in mine. I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation of my regard, yet I am certain of my love for you."</p><p>He faltered, and then pulled on her hand gently to turn her to face him. She allowed herself to be led and gazed at him through unshed tears as he finished his declaration.</p><p>"Mr. Darcy, I am happy your memories are returning, for your own sake more than mine. But I cannot let you continue on. You may have loved me once, for reasons I still do not fully understand, but you are not obligated to me based on the <em>memory</em> of a strong affection."</p><p>"Is that what you believe?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"You believe I do not love you now?" He clarified. Elizabeth starred at him without answering. Darcy realized he had never felt so vulnerable as he did when she looked at him with those bright eyes in the way she was doing now.</p><p>"I have been drawn to you since I saw you at Pemberley. My heart ached when I looked at you, and though I did not know why, I now know it was because there was something that bound me to you. Despite my own best efforts, fate has brought you to me and me to you repeatedly, and I thank the Heavens for this fortune. I have sought you out almost every day because I cannot bear to be apart from you. Reading with you, speaking with you, walking with you. Since returning to Hertfordshire, I have chosen you, every single day. Can you not see why, Elizabeth? It is because I love you now, as I did then, as I will always."</p><p>Elizabeth's lips parted slightly to respond, but she seemed at a loss for words. Instead a tear began falling out of the corner of her eye. With his free hand, Darcy wiped it away.</p><p>"Elizabeth Bennet, I do not know how I can make amends for my behavior towards you, for the foolishness I attempted in London, or for the past days. The list of the grievances I have committed against you are long, but I give you my word that all I do from this moment on will be with your happiness in mind. I will endeavor to be the man worthy of your affection. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once-"</p><p>Elizabeth finally found her voice to interrupt him, "Mr. Darcy, my feelings…my feelings are much changed."</p><p>A new emotion flooded him, stronger than the anguish he had wallowed in the day previous. Hope. Darcy wanted to sweep her into his arms and finally feel her lips on his. Decorum held him in place. He locked his blue eyes onto her glistening brown ones. He could see the fiery spirit emerge through her tears, dampened only by some uncertainty in her eyes as she waited for his response.</p><p>"Then you offer me hope. I understand my behavior may mean you need time. Will you allow me to formerly court you?"</p><p>"A courtship?" Elizabeth said, and then she laughed. He had not anticipated this, though her laughter was always a welcome sound. Darcy looked at her confused.</p><p>"Miss Elizabeth, you know I am not to be laughed at," Darcy said, but he was smiling, "What do you find so diverting?"</p><p>"After such a grand declaration, an offer of courtship leaves much to be desired. We have had a sufficient, albeit peculiar, courtship as it is, would you not agree, Mr. Darcy?" she replied teasingly.</p><p>Darcy smiled at her, marveling at how she could ease the tension he held in his body with one playful expression. "If you are displeased with that, then I must retract my offer, and replace it with what is, fortunately, the request closer to my wishes. Will you do me the honor of allowing me to spend my life with you as your husband?"</p><p>"Yes, Mr. Darcy. That would make me the happiest of women," Elizabeth replied. The desire to draw her close to him was far too great.</p><p>"May I kiss you?" he kept his voice soft. Her cheeks were already red from the exertion of her walk, but she managed to color further. Darcy's heart swelled as he looked at her. Smiling brightly, she enthusiastically replied.</p><p>"Yes, Mr. Darcy."</p><p>Her acquiescence was something he could grow accustomed to. In one motion, his right hand let go of hers and wrapped around to the small of her back to draw her closer. His left hand that moments ago had been wiping tears from her eyes now caressed her cheeks, tucking a wayward curl tenderly behind her ears. Elizabeth's grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and she looked up at him expectantly. Darcy returned her smile right before their lips met.</p><p>They were at the highest vantage point in all of Hertfordshire, with the countryside sprawling in all its morning glory around them. The world was infinite and intimate at once.</p><p>Darcy felt as if he had waited a century and journeyed across all of England, but the reward of Elizabeth's hand and her kiss was well worth it. He enjoyed the warmth of her mouth and the feel of her in his arms, the very things he longed for that had always been just out of his reach. He pushed his lips against hers softly, not wanting to overwhelm her with his passion, but she met him with unexpected zeal. He returned her fervor with his own, and with every movement of their lips, scenes replayed in his mind- watching her from across a crowded room, her slamming her book shut with her wry expression. Handing her into the carriage. When he almost kissed her after his dreadful proposal in the rain. Writing her letters. It was overwhelming. He broke their kiss and brought his hands to her waist. With excitement coursing through his body, he picked her up and spun her around, and when she erupted into laughter, he followed suit.</p><p>"Dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth," he breathed out as he set her down. Brazenly, she stood on her tiptoes to surprise him with another kiss, her hands resting on his face. He was happy to oblige her. When they finally broke apart, he spoke first.</p><p>"I must speak to your father," Darcy said, kissing her hands as he took them in his.</p><p>"If you return to Longbourn with me now, they will be sitting down for breakfast soon. I must prepare you, he will be surprised to see you."</p><p>"Does he know of my failed suit before?"</p><p>"Goodness, no. Can you imagine what my mother would have said if she found out I had declined a second proposal?" Elizabeth said merrily, holding his hand as they walked down Oakham Mount.</p><p>"A second proposal? Exactly how many times have I asked for your hand?" Mr. Darcy replied, flustered.</p><p>"Oh, just that one in Kent, sir. I am speaking of my cousin, Mr. Collins. I declined him after the Netherfield ball," she explained.</p><p>"Lizzy," Darcy paused to see if he was allowed the appellation, and when she beamed up at him, he continued, "I beg you to be patient with me as I am still piecing some things together, and I am not sure what I should know. To be clear, you have received, if we take this morning into account, three proposals, two of which you declined?" Darcy said amused.</p><p>"Generally speaking, one only makes it to three proposals if one has declined the first two, so yes, that is correct."</p><p>"I suppose Mr. Collins was not so dreadfully disappointed, as the object of his affections quickly became your very sensible friend, if I am not mistaken?"</p><p>"Indeed. I would say he bore the disappointment well, especially in comparison to the alternative path you chose to take after your disappointment, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth teased. Darcy was taken aback and did not respond.</p><p>He watched worry cross her face and then Elizabeth spoke, "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. It is too soon after reaching an understanding for me to tease you so. You seem to have suffered greatly," she said tenderly, squeezing the hand she was holding while patting his arm gently with her other hand. Darcy reveled in their newly found intimacy and wondered how he was ever able to manage without her skin at his fingertips. It would be exceedingly difficult to keep himself away from her in company now. He hoped he could employ Mr. Bingley's tactics in ensuring a short engagement.</p><p>Smiling, he stopped walking and brought her hand up to his lips, placing a tender kiss along her knuckles. "I believe you once told me you tend to only think of the past as its remembrances give you pleasure. I intend to do the same, or at the very least, learn to laugh at my follies."</p><p>Elizabeth looked at him, puzzled.</p><p>"What is it?" he asked.</p><p>"I have never said that to you," Elizabeth replied. "While it <em>is</em> certainly one of my life philosophies, I have never had the opportunity to make that known to you."</p><p>"At the Netherfield Ball? When we spoke on the terrace…" Darcy trailed off. Elizabeth shook her head.</p><p>"We only spoke during our set. And I would certainly not have stepped outside with you."</p><p>"Elizabeth, perhaps you can tell me about <em>us</em> as we walk to Longbourn, so that I may better remember and discern memory from dream," he kissed her hand again, a little rattled, and then let her go to offer his arm, so they may walk through Hertfordshire properly.</p><p>"If you insist. Prepare yourself, for this tale is not for the faint of heart," Elizabeth began in a dramatically serious tone. She was unable to keep a straight face and chuckled. Darcy smiled in encouragement.</p><p>"Our story begins at an assembly…"</p><p>With very animated gestures, poor attempts at replicating Darcy's haughty tone, a frighteningly accurate impression of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a tender and reflective recounting of their blunders, and a few questions from Darcy, they were able to reconstruct much of their relationship. Darcy told her about some of the dreams he remembered from the night he took the potion, and she was riveted by them, especially when she confessed she once dreamt of dancing with him at the assembly. It was certainly a curiosity. This conversation kept them occupied until they were within sight of Longbourn.</p><p>Elizabeth stopped. Darcy noticed her sudden agitation. Their meandering path to Longbourn meant they would need to cross a field before reaching the house. The morning fog had evaporated, and the sounds of the wildlife around them filled the air.</p><p>"Lizzy?" he asked, worried.</p><p>"You can end our story here, now, Mr. Darcy. We are yet unobserved. You do not need to return to Longbourn with me. If you still have apprehensions about my family or yours or me-" she said, quietly.</p><p>Why was she giving him an out? Darcy thought, annoyed.</p><p>"Elizabeth. For the first time in months, I <em>finally</em> feel as though I am on the path that will restore my life back to the way it was meant to be. With <em>you</em> by my side. It went astray the night I took that drink. But that is behind us. No more delays, no more hesitations." He gestured towards Longbourn, "Our future is before us, Elizabeth, my love. You said you would marry me. Do you need another proposal? I will ask you a thousand times, as many as it takes, until you no longer doubt my constancy, and we are united by God and the law."</p><p>Elizabeth was looking at him curiously, as if she was only just seeing him for the first time. He leaned towards her, closing the space between them to rest his forehead on hers.</p><p>"I love you, Fitzwilliam" she finally whispered. An overwhelmingly sense of relief and happiness washed over him to hear her finally say those words and speak his name. Elizabeth continued, "I have never been so happy. You must understand, happiness has seemed out of reach for so long."</p><p>"I love you," she repeated, this time sounding as determined and brave as Darcy knew her to be. He kissed her forehead.</p><p>"Then let us continue our story, my love," Darcy replied.</p><p>Walking side by side, they crossed the dewy field together.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>THE END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter before you move onto the short epilogue!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the second chapter uploaded today. Make sure you read Chapter 16.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>A LETTER ARRIVES</strong> </p><p>A delayed letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at Netherfield on the very day Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy reached an understanding and secured the blessing of her father. Mr. Darcy, with a small amount of embarrassment, allowed Elizabeth to read the correspondence, which she did with great amusement.</p><p>
  <em>Darcy,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your letter dated over a month ago only recently arrived.  It required much rerouting after my regiment was moved, and I curse the delay it has caused in my response. I will ignore everything you have requested of me (In case you cannot remember your letter, I have enclosed it herein).</em>
</p><p><em>I am writing now to tell you: do not be a simpleton. I have heard of this so-called potion (as many soldiers have tried similar remedies to cure them of the memories of the battlefield to varying success) and you are more stubborn than I thought if you think this is a promising course of action. I assure you; it would be the very worst end if you manage to forget Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have never seen you so charmed by any other woman (did you realize you rarely looked away from her at Rosings?) and I imagine those feelings will not easily be forgotten. I can also conclude that you must be madly in love with her if you are taking such reckless actions. Love makes fools of us all. </em> </p><p>
  <em>I beg you to speak to Georgiana or Bingley about Miss Elizabeth immediately. Even Aunt Catherine may be of use here (for her Ladyship will have plenty of reproaches that actually recommend Miss Elizabeth highly). During our time in Kent, I came to know Miss Elizabeth as one of the wittiest and brightest women of our acquaintance. If you are lucky, you may yet be able to atone for whatever stupid things you said or did and win her over (your pride and temper are not kept in good regulation as you think, Darcy). That is, if someone else has not already won her hand, which would not come as a surprise to me. Do you check the wedding announcements in the paper? I would have offered for her myself (and I told her as much in Kent!) if I did not have the misfortune of being a second son. You do not have the same limitations as I do, Darcy, and you have still blundered this whole thing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> I am on leave in a fortnight and will meet with you as soon as I return to town to knock some sense into you if you still have none. We can travel to Hertfordshire together if necessary. Sending this express to London with instructions to forward to wherever you are if you are no longer in town. All my love to Georgiana.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours &amp;c</em>
</p><p>
  <em>RF</em>
</p><p>“I always knew I had a friend and ally in the Colonel,” Elizabeth commented with a laugh.</p><p>“Indeed. I will write to him immediately to tell him he will need to stop expressing how he would marry my future wife if he were able,” Mr. Darcy replied, smiling.     </p><p>
  <strong>EPILOGUE</strong>
</p><p>The Darcy’s often spent rainy days indoors in the blue parlor of Pemberley. Darcy was laying on the ground, propped up on his elbow, while their five-year-old daughter Anne jumped excitedly beside him, listening intently to him tell her favorite story. Elizabeth glanced up from her embroidery work and smiled at the sight that greeted her</p><p>“And when the prince woke up—” Darcy said.</p><p>“He could not remember the princess!” Anne interrupted with a shout and a dramatic look of surprise. She knew the story by heart.</p><p>“No, my darling, the prince could not,” Darcy said, feigning a serious tone.</p><p>“Then what happened?”</p><p>“When the prince saw the princess again, he felt a great love in his heart for her, even if he did not know who she was. He was very scared and acted very poorly towards her. Fortunately, the beautiful princess, in addition to being kind and patient, was very brave. She helped the prince find his away again, and he learned to always act in such a way to be worthy of her love” Darcy glanced at Elizabeth as he spoke, and Elizabeth smiled and gently shook her head at him. He told many versions of the story, some more fantastical than others, but in all of them he painted Elizabeth as the understanding heroine that she had truly been.</p><p>“Then what, papa?” little Anne asked.</p><p>“The prince and the princess overcame many obstacles of their own making. One day, atop of the highest mountain in all the land, they confessed their love for each other and lived happily ever after.” As he finished his tale, he grabbed Anne and lifted her above him while she screamed and dissolved into giggles.</p><p>The Darcy’s spent most of their days in harmony. Before they married, Elizabeth, Georgiana, Mr. Bingley and the Colonel each helped reconstruct what they could of the memories so that Darcy had a fuller understanding. He remembered all their acquaintance now, and he and Elizabeth made plenty of new memories to add to the old. Darcy reflected often on the force of his love for her. Despite their misunderstandings and poor first impressions and his misguided decisions, he had found her again. Darcy, formerly not a very sentimental man, was certain of one thing. He was always meant to find her and love her, and it was a gift that she loved him in return. Darcy lived every moment grateful for the day, every single one of them, when he met his dearest Elizabeth at Oakham Mount.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading this story. I am profoundly grateful for every one of you. This was my return to fanfic writing after thirteen years, and you have been so receptive and welcoming.  Stay safe and healthy and be kind to each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>